Golden Days
by Catiegirl
Summary: Golden Days is a collection of episodes that I imagine happened between the pages of Anne of Avonlea. Anne and Gil's deepening friendship had to have been a pretty amazing thing, and I always felt they deserved more page time! These are stand-alone chapters, and are not in chronological order. I am adding to these gradually, so you never know when one will pop up!
1. Chapter 1, Shadows

Marilla stood at the kitchen door, nervous hands twisting into her apron. She looked out into the setting sun, seeing no hint of the girl she had expected home several hours ago. It made no difference that Anne was older now, and that she had been wandering the nooks and crannies of Avonlea since she arrived there six years earlier. Marilla sighed, turning back to glance at the clock that ticked relentlessly on the mantelpiece.

She moved back into the kitchen, not able to keep from glancing out the window as she rinsed the tea things from earlier that afternoon. As she cleared away and began supper preparations, she realised that Anne had not eaten that afternoon at all. She had delivered Davy and Dora, still wide eyed from their first few weeks of school, herself uncharacteristically quiet. To be sure, Davy had more than made up for that: he was full of tales of classroom rivalries, of daring exploits certain members of the Boulter family had supposedly accomplished.

Marilla's eyes had followed Anne as she walked up the stairs with little more than a greeting. She had returned some minutes later, and made a pretence of drinking tea. In the presence of Davy and Dora she was unwilling to question the girl, and before they had finished chattering Anne had risen from the table. With a tight smile for the benefit of the twins, she announced she was going for a walk and would be back a little later. Davy had pleaded to be able to go as well. Marilla took the young boy's shoulders firmly, steering him back to the table. Anne nodded at Marilla, and walked out the door.

It was now nearing twilight, and Marilla jumped, seeing someone at last enter the gate. She walked down the stairs expecting Anne had returned, but was met by a tall young man, who walked with a confidence she remembered from many years past.

"Miss Cuthbert, good evening."

Gilbert Blythe looked past Marilla, expecting to see Anne fluttering around in the kitchen.

Marilla nodded politely, not quite able to keep her voice steady or her eyes from scanning the horizon. "Gilbert."

"Is Anne in? I was hoping she would accompany me to Moody Spurgeon's house. His parents are hosting an impromptu supper for the AVIS team."

"I don't know where she is." Marilla said, her voice shaking slightly.

Gilbert froze. "What do you mean? Where did she go?"

Marilla tried to control her voice. "She went for a walk after she got back from school today. I don't know what happened, but she didn't seem herself. And she's been gone for hours now. She should have been home by now."

Gilbert manufactured a smile and cheerful voice for the woman in front of him.

"I'm sure she just got lost in her daydreams again. I'll go find her and bring her home. I'll even scold her for you if you like."

Marilla gave a twisted smile. "You should be careful Gilbert. Anne has a tongue of her own, as you no doubt remember."

He laughed. "Don't I know it." He turned to go, but Marilla stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked back to see a look in her eyes that frightened him.

"I haven't seen her look that way since Matthew died. She needs to be at home, Gilbert."

He nodded at her, his look serious. Then he hastened down the lane.

 _Think, Blythe, think. Where would she go? Not the haunted wood at this hour, she won't go that way alone._

The way in front of him was getting dimmer by the moment, and Gilbert was concerned that he needed to choose a path. The moonlight was bright, however in the forest the pale rays had little effect in the growing dimness. Gilbert was growing anxious now, and tried to remember any particular place Anne had talked about recently. Lovers Lane, Idlewood….

He frowned. There was a place she had taken him to some months ago, around the far side of Barry's pond. A fallen tree had blocked a small gully, creating a hidden baby paradise in the summertime. Mossy stones lined the tiny gorge, and several small trees were growing wildly along the edge. He had waded through a small creek looking for tadpoles, catching them in jars to show his class the following day.

The summertime was long gone now, and he hurried along the edge of the wood. If she wasn't there he would have to keep searching. What could have possessed her to stay out so late? Even her forgetfulness wouldn't make her forget the cool autumn air. He shivered slightly as he neared the place, and looking into the gloom, he could see no movement.

"Anne!" he called now, looking for any sign of her presence. To his surprise, he heard a slight rustle. "Anne, if you're here you better have a good reason for being out so late."

"It's me."

His shoulders sagged, and he stepped gingerly over the log. Searching in the dimness, he saw a shape sitting against the larger of the trees, and walked over to her. To his surprise, she hadn't moved, hadn't jumped to her feet at being found- had barely reacted to his presence. As he would a hurt animal, he approached her cautiously.

"Anne, Marilla's worried about you; she said you should have been home hours ago. What on earth are you doing out here at night time?" Gilbert crouched down beside her. She jumped at the movement, and he was startled to see the look of fear cross her face.

"Hey, hey, it's just me here. It's just me. You aren't in trouble; I came to find you because we're worried about you." He put his hand on the stiff arm she had beside her, and couldn't help but be hurt at the way she flinched. He pulled back from her quickly.

"Look, I'm sorry if you want me to leave, but I can't leave you out here on your own. I'm not doing that to you or Marilla." He said abruptly. He watched her turn to look at him, her eyes looking hunted. Gilbert sighed. Here he was walking on eggshells before her again, once more unable to predict how this girl would react. Would this pattern _never_ end?

"Please don't go." She whispered, brokenly.

Gilbert let out a breath slowly, his heart twisting. "I told you I won't leave you. Why don't I just walk you back home?"

"I can't." she said, in a voice that sounded like a sob.

"Anne, are you hurt? You need to tell me." When she made no reply Gilbert's hand went to the back of his head in frustration. He tried to keep his voice light. "I'm your friend, remember? Your very best enemy?"

At this, the tears that she had been repressing began to fall, and to Gilbert's horror, she put her head on her knees and began to sob. Feeling as if he was already in way too deep with no way to paddle, he acted on his instinct and pulled her over to him, and into his arms. Again he was surprised- she clung to his shirt tightly, in a way that even in their current situation his heart thrilled to.

Anne cried for long minutes. Not knowing what else to do he stroked her head and shoulders, murmuring words of comfort in the darkness. As she eventually stilled, he reluctantly pulled himself away from her to see her better.

"Let me take you home now, Anne." He pleaded softly.

"I don't know what to say to Marilla about why I left." She said, her voice shaking. "She doesn't know any of it, and it might make things worse. I just need to deal with it somehow." She pulled herself away, tucking her skirt in under her.

"Anne, you're talking in riddles again. Look, can you tell me what upset you so much?" he bent down to look her in the eyes. "I won't say anything to anyone, you know that. It looks like you need to tell someone something." He could see her hesitating, trying to form the words, and pressed her hand again. He watched her holding her body stiff, but suddenly her fingers gripped his tightly. Gilbert said nothing more, but looked at her questioning. When a short silence went by, he squeezed her fingers again, bringing her eyes to his.

"Anne. Tell me."

Anne gave a small sigh of surrender, and hesitantly began to speak.

"A new family started school today." She said, her voice quivering. "The Robertson's. They only just moved to Avonlea a week ago." Gilbert watched her, waiting expectantly. "There are three children coming to my class. Two boys and a girl with long plaits in her hair." She looked out into the darkness, seemingly forgetting that Gilbert was there. He nudged her gently in the arm.

"Their- their father came to pick them up. He walked into my classroom at the end of the day. He was- talking- and laughing- so loud. He spoke to the children angrily, telling them to go out to the wagon. And then I was at my desk and he was standing over me-" Her voice had become more irregular, and she didn't notice that Gilbert was gripping her hand so tightly that it hurt. "And then he left."

Gilbert blurted his anxious thoughts out- "He didn't yell at you? Hurt you?"

In the faint moonlight he saw her shake her head. "No. He just wanted to tell me that he wouldn't be coming to pick them up regularly, that if they wanted schooling they had to get there themselves. Then he left." She tried to repress a shudder.

"Why wouldn't Marilla understand that? It sounds like he scared you." Gilbert said. She shook her head again.

"No. I didn't understand it till I left the schoolhouse and saw them drive away- the girl with the braids. It was _me_." Anne laid her head on the trunk of the tree, her eyes closed and tears running freely now.

"It was _me_ being yelled at. _Me_ being told to help the others, that I had no right to read when I had jobs to do." Gilbert was trying to follow her thoughts. "It was me I saw- me when I was ten, only it was Mr Hammond standing over me-"she broke down again, her sobs overcoming her again.

Gilbert' heart broke for her, and he put his arm around her again. He sighed as she rested her head on his chest, and he rocked her gently in his arms. He wiped a tear of his own away, but the voice that came from his mouth was harsh-

"Tell me he didn't hurt you- tell me he didn't lay a hand on you Anne, or I swear-" He broke off abruptly, trying to restrain his escalating emotions.

Anne sighed. "No. He sometimes hit me, but then, he hit everyone." Her voice was wooden. "He was just big- and terrifying- and I hated the way he would look at me sometimes. It frightened me. I was relieved whenever he went away to find work."

The two of them sat in silence for a time, Gilbert trying to process all she had said.

"Marilla doesn't know any of this?" he said softly. "Does Diana?"

She shook her head against him. "Diana wouldn't be able to understand. And I only told Matthew and Marilla a small part- I just try and forget those ten years ever existed." He voice shook again. "But I had no warning this time."

Gilbert sighed. "Anne, Marilla needs to know."

"I'm _seventeen_ , Gil. I'm an adult, a teacher. I can't fall apart at little things like this-" her voice shook, and Gilbert cut her off, his sharp words contrasted by his gentle hold.

"Anne, do you hear yourself? _You are just_ _seventeen_. I know how strong and mature you are, and heaven forbid I should underestimate you, but seventeen _doesn't_ mean you have to have all the answers. At seventeen you still need someone who can hold you and help you and be the adult for a time. I go to my dad all the time." He pulled away to look her in the eyes again. "Marilla is your guardian and she loves you- and you shouldn't try to deal with something like this on your own." He sighed. " _I_ couldn't deal with it on my own. No one we know could survive this like you have. Just please- let us in."

Anne said nothing more for a time. Gilbert was terrified she would suddenly realise how much she had shared and run away from him; unconsciously he held himself waiting. As the minutes went by, he began to wonder if she had fallen asleep.

"Gil?" she said eventually.

"Yes?"

"I never told anyone that."

"I guessed that."

"Can I ask something?"

He rubbed her shoulder gently. "Okay."

"Can this stay a secret?"

Her pulled back, slightly puzzled. "Anne, of course."

"I mean, even from us."

Now seriously questioning his companion's sanity, he held her back to see her face better. "From _us_?" She sighed, and stood to her feet slowly. He stood as well, and drew closer to see her better.

"I have to hide a lot of my past from myself." She said softly. "I don't know any other way of handling this. I can't see it in your eyes that you remember this conversation; that you are pitying me, or trying to talk to me about it when I just can't. I need for us to forget it."

He looked at her helplessly. "I don't see how I can, Anne. You're my friend, and I- I care about you. How can I stay silent when you're hurting? Don't you trust me _not_ to hurt you with it?"

She reached out to take his hand, and his heart seemed to stop momentarily. "I do trust you. I couldn't have told you if I didn't. But can you please hide it from me that you know?" she looked at him pleadingly.

Gilbert looked at her in the faint moonlight, this impossible girl who so bewildered and enchanted him.

"Alright. I'll try." He paused. "But Anne, if you need to talk, bring me back here at night and you can tell me anything you need to. You won't even be able to see me."

Anne sighed, and when he took her hand to leave, she went with him willingly. They walked silently for a time, but on the edge of the woods behind Green Gables, she stopped him.

"Thank you for coming after me." She said quietly.

"Any time." He couldn't resist trying to make her smile, and teased her. "So am I still your best enemy?"

Anne looked back at him and whispered seriously- "You're my best friend."

She reached up and hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around her small form tightly. He wondered when she would allow herself to be this vulnerable with him again, and as she let go of him he couldn't suppress a sigh. They walked through the gate of Green Gables, and Marilla came to stand in the doorway, her face trying to restrain her emotions. Gilbert walked her up to the stairs, and met Marilla's eyes with a nod.

"Do you want me to come in when you tell her?" he said to Anne quietly. She looked back at the older woman, and shook her head, her lips trembling. Gilbert reached one arm around her and hugged her, ignoring the stunned look on Marilla's face.

"Tell her just like you told me."

He stepped back, and turned to go. When he reached the gate he turned to look back, and saw Anne being held by the older woman, her head on Marilla's shoulder like a little girl.


	2. Chapter 2, Of Boys and Girls

**_Thank you to everyone who read, followed and reviewed- to say I was chuffed is an understatement. (To say I cried and grinned for 48 hrs is honest though.) This is the nicest community ever! Your comments meant the world to me. I wanted to do something a bit lighter for Chapter 2, considering I started a story called 'Golden Days' with Post Traumatic Stress disorder... I'm glad you liked it though, to me it made sense that she would struggle with these things from time to time. Carrots, in regards to your question, I think Anne would have shared some of it with Marilla- however I think you are right, in my mind she kept some things confidential with Gilbert. After all, she just needed someone to hear her. So glad it was him..._**

 ** _This is a something a bit different, I wanted to show those beginning steps in a friendship; you know, when you've been enemies for five years, it's 1882 and your friend is- wait for it- a guy!_**

 ** _Thank you for reading, CG._**

* * *

 _Of Boys and Girls_

"But _fishing_?" Anne said dubiously.

Gilbert's grin was in place, and he leaned against the kitchen counter nonchalantly.

"Look- so far this summer we've done all the girly things that you wanted to. I picked flowers with you. We went berrying, and I even helped you make them into pies last Friday when Diana couldn't make it, didn't I?"

"I thought we weren't allowed to mention that one?" Anne said, grinning at him and fluttering her eyelashes. "You know you _were_ fetching in Dora's apron."

"You are _not_ getting out of it that easily."

"But didn't you have fun with me?" she asked innocently.

Gilbert looked back into her grey eyes, and grinned. "You know I did. And you _know_ I wouldn't do this stuff for anyone else. But if we're friends, Anne Shirley; well, I think once in a while you can leave the girly stuff behind and come and have some fun with me. _My_ way."

"But Gil, I don't have anything to fish with-"

"I do. I've got everything you need. Next?"

"I'm not that good at swimming-"

"It's a pond; we're staying out of the water." Gilbert said, rolling his eyes.

"But I'm supposed to be a proper _lady_ -"

"So is my mother. She's been fishing with Dad before."

Anne stood with her hands on her hips and her mouth slightly open, feeling fairly caught. He was leaning on the kitchen bench with folded arms, clearly feeling he had the high ground now. Gilbert grinned at her, and Anne lifted her hands in exasperation.

"Fine. You win. But if I fall in and catch pneumonia, or I get bitten by a fish- or if I have Mrs Lynde saying I'm not a good role model for young ladies then it's on your head." she said crossly.

Gilbert walked in close to her, and bent down to look at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I'll risk it. Come on, you'll love it. I'll be back in half an hour to get you, just wear your oldest clothes and a big hat."

Anne stood staring after Gilbert as he walked down the stairs and out to the gate whistling. What had gotten into him? Okay, so he _had_ been reluctant when it came to the cooking, and he had been a good sport about that. And hadn't she once told him she was envious of the freedom of the boys she had grown up with? She looked over at some sewing that was waiting for her attention, and realised how much she wanted to be outside with Gilbert.

 _No, wait, outside altogether. Just outside, not with Gil… well, she didn't_ _not_ _want to be with him, but- that wasn't why she- oh bother._

Anne put her confusing thoughts on hold as a sudden picture of Gilbert in Dora's apron made her giggle again. Her breath caught however, as another memory from Friday replayed itself. Gilbert, deliberately pulling Anne closer to him by her own apron strings after she had teased him. He had looked at her with that crooked smile of his, his hazel eyes sparkling with an unfamiliar energy in their depths. Anne had momentarily lost the power of speech, giving Gilbert the chance to wipe some molasses on her shapely nose.

Anne shook her head, still confused by the oddly charged moment. She walked up the stairs to get ready, and as she did so looked down at her pretty green skirt.

 _To think today was the first time I wore it, too…._ she thought with a sigh.

* * *

When Gilbert returned, Anne was waiting on the front porch. She wore an old blue dress that had clearly seen better days, and a hat that he assumed had belonged to Matthew.

"Aww, did you dress up just for _me_?" he teased, with a cocky grin.

"Yes, the only person in the world who would ask me to dress more dowdily." She grumbled.

"Come on, Shirley, you look fine."

Anne threw her hands up in the air. "And so it begins. You practically see me as a boy now, don't you?" She followed him down the pathway and out through the gate.

"Never a boy." He said, laughing. "But a girl who's up to prove society's expectations wrong every now and then? What about that?"

Anne chuckled. "I guess if I want to be the first Avonlea girl to go to college, I have to."

"Good. Now carry the rods for me, will you?"

Half an hour later, Anne found herself sitting on the banks of an unknown pond with a rod sitting gingerly in her hand.

"I can't believe you talked me into this." She muttered. As Gilbert looked underneath the brim of her big hat, he found the smile he knew was hiding there.

"Come off it Anne, you know this has potential to be a lot of fun. For starters, what are you calling this place?"

She chuckled. "This is your hideout, _you_ should name it. What is it called?"

"Err- Upper West Pond."

At this point Anne bust out laughing. "With names like that, it's no wonder Avonlea never knew what to do with me! How unimaginative."

"Well, there's a lake near Charlottetown that was named after someone who was murdered there." Gilbert said with a grimace. "I'd rather an unimaginative one than one that perpetually reminded you of something bad."

"Well, _something_ has to occur to us better than the Upper West Pond. Did you and the boys come here a lot?"

Gilbert cast his line out easily, and shifted on the bank. "Charlie nearly drowned me out here actually. We were out on a dory here when we were eight. He got himself back in the boat by pulling me out, and I got stuck in some reeds. Dad was there though, he fished us both out. And Fred and I used to come here to fish most weekends when we were at school."

"We could call it the Boy's Pond. I suppose a girly name would sound strange here." Anne picked up the end of her line, frowning at the worm Gilbert had impaled on it.

"It catches fish better in the water, Anne."

He showed her how to cast it again, laughing at her when she ducked out of its path through the air. He sat down again, and waited for her to sit down as well.

"It is peaceful." Anne said with a sigh. "I can't believe I never found this place in all my rambles."

"You never took this pathway?"

Anne blushed at this comment. "I used to avoid the road that went past your house, so I never came this way."

"Well, that's lovely." He replied dryly.

"I know, it was stupid." She said, embarrassed, and studiously picked a fern from the ground. "I did see you working with your father in the fields near Green Gables last summer. I watched you work for a little while." She added unexpectedly.

Gilbert looked out at the lake, feeling self-conscious. "Oh. Why?"

Anne screwed up her face. "I was just thinking, I guess."

"About?"

"About that day by the pond. And how I wished I'd- done things differently."

Gilbert turned to her with a grin. "Really?"

She sighed. "I already told you I regretted my actions that day."

"See? I told you we were meant to be friends." He said knowingly.

Anne rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know, Gilbert is always _right_ , Gilbert is the king."

"Thanks. I'm glad you see that."

At this Anne shoved him in the arm, and he did the same back laughing.

"I also was wondering how you kept getting ahead of me in school." She said with a grin. "I had to work day and night to keep up with you!"

"What do you think I was doing? We probably pushed each other into doing well."

Anne nodded thoughtfully. "So I guess we were always doing it together then. Even as enemies." She sighed, stretching her legs out in front of her. "This is so nice, Gil. Thank you for bringing me here." She pushed the braid hanging over her shoulder back. " So did any of the other girls ever come here? Ruby or Josie?"

"We never asked them to go fishing with us, if that's what you mean. And I never did anything with them like this."

Anne was surprised. "Really? I thought you were always spending time together. Ruby certainly gives that impression—"

"Oh, only at functions, and church or school things."

Anne raised her eyebrows. "Oh. I just assumed-"

"We all grew up together. We're friends, but not- not like this."

Anne looked at him curiously. "So why am I different?" Gilbert looked over at her with a smile, and he held her eyes for a moment.

"Because you're different."

She blushed slightly, and went back to plucking leaves from the ground.

"Maybe too different."

Gilbert looked at her sharply, and she sighed. "Diana asked me if it's appropriate to spend so much time with a boy as a friend. I didn't see a problem, but, maybe everyone else does."

"Or maybe she's a bit jealous. You have been spending a lot of time with me lately-"

"We have five years to catch up on!" she defended.

"I know that, but it's alright if Diana needs some more of your time." At this he stretched out on the bank beside her.

She looked over at him, unconsciously admiring his form. "Gilbert, you're not going to go to sleep on me, are you?" she asked cheekily. She watched him jump slightly, an unaccountable blush covering his face.

"No, just getting comfortable. A watched fish never boils."

Anne laughed at that. "You're mixing your proverbs, I think." She looked at his rod and hers, and stabbed hers into the ground as he had. She looked around at the pond, fringed by willows that hid this spot from the nearby road. "It _is_ lovely here. Is it deep?"

"A couple of metres at the far end. It's not too deep here."

"So I could wade in it?" She watched him look up at her with a slight frown.

"Why?"

"Well, it looks cool in the water, and it's the middle of summer. I'm sure you boys all used to do that."

"You said you couldn't swim!"

"And you said it wasn't deep!" Anne began to pull off her shoes.

"Anne, you don't have to do everything just because they did. You were worried enough about the fishing bit, as I recall."

She chuckled again. "It just looks nice in there. Diana and I go wading every now and then- or we used to when we were younger. Now turn around, I just need to take off my stockings."

At this Gilbert spluttered slightly in surprise, but turned away. Anne wasn't able to see the blush once again on his face, having no idea of the effect she was having on him.

"So are you sure you don't find this weird, being friends with a girl?" she asked suddenly. At this, Gilbert turned around in surprise.

"No- do you?"

Anne shrugged. "Only a little." She smiled, a little embarrassed. "I mean, we were in school together, but not actually friends. We're not children, we're adults now, and that's meant to mean we're polite and decorous; and that I can't run or climb trees. But we're- not like that. You spend time with me, and now here I am fishing with you. Our old classmates would find it odd."

Gilbert sat beside her on the grass, and began to remove his own shoes and socks. "Well, like you say, we're different." He said honestly. "I've never met anyone else who can keep up with the way I think, and I don't particularly like girls without anything in their head except dresses and parties. I like the way I have to work to keep up with you, and the way you tell me what you're thinking. It's fun spending time with you, and I don't really care what we do when we do it. If you fish with me, I'll definitely keep flower hunting with you."

"Even if I accidentally mention girly things like stockings or petticoats?"

"Even then." Gilbert replied, turning his red face away. "I'm glad you're a girl."

Anne beamed at him, feeling a sudden sense of warmth. "Good. Because I will probably still scream if you make me touch a fish."

"Well, get your lungs ready; your line is creeping into the lake."

After a few exciting minutes, Anne finally stood on the side of the lake, with a small fish hanging on the end of her gingerly held line. She had done well to this point, although felt too much sympathy on behalf of her quarry.

"Gilbert, it looks so sad. Can we let it go?"

"No." he said, rolling his eyes. "The goal is to catch the fish, not make a pet out of it."

"Spoilsport."

* * *

Several hours later, the two of them walked the path back to Green Gables, several fish strung on the line. Anne walked slowly, her skirts still quite wet from her involuntary tumble down the bank. Gilbert laughed watching her pull at them, remembering the incident again.

After the fish had been caught, the two of them had finally gone wading in the shallows of the pond. Anne's hat had fallen from her head, and when she bent down to retrieve it had slipped in the silt underfoot. Gilbert made it to her side laughing fit to kill, and in the process of retrieving the hat and putting her back on her feet had slid down the bank himself. The two of them had carefully walked back up the slope, pausing only to begin to laugh at the other again. Gilbert tried to help Anne wring her skirts dry, until he realised he was touching her petticoat and backed away swiftly.

"Well. I see why ladies don't go wading." She said, wiping the tears of laughter from her face, and trying to shake her skirts out.

"That's why I suggested old clothes. Is Matthew's hat alright?"

Anne looked back at him in surprise. "Yes. How did you know it was his?"

Gilbert shrugged at her, his face gentle. "It's a man's hat, and it looks like it's special to you." Anne looked back at him, her eyes shining.

"It is." She gave him a smile that took his breath away. "I love that you knew it was his. I don't want people to forget him."

Anne stopped moving as Gilbert reached one hand out to push a wet lock of hair out of her face.

"Hey, he's the reason you're here. I'll never stop being thankful for that." He pulled his hand away reluctantly, and shoved his hands into his still wet pockets. "Look, we need to be heading home to get dry clothes. I promise Anne, I never intended us to go into the water."

Anne groaned. "No, but embarrassing and ridiculous things always happen with me. I told you Gil, being my friend has an element of risk to it."

He picked up the rods and the fish with a steady grin on his face. "I'll chance it if you will."

Anne wiped the water off her face. "Gilbert, I think we should call the pond _The Waters of Acheron._ Is that a masculine enough name?"

Gilbert chuckled. "Very. Did you _have_ to go in to work that one out?"

* * *

Gilbert delivered Anne back to the kitchen door of Green Gables, damp but chattering animatedly. Marilla looked up from her cake mixture and rolled her eyes at the sight of the bedraggled pair; merely commenting that she wasn't surprised. Anne stood in the doorway to say goodbye.

"Thank you for taking me fishing, Gilbert."

'So you'll come with me again?"

She chuckled. "Not in cold weather, but yes."

Gilbert leaned on the door frame, his hazel eyes teasing.

"Or how about next time I teach you how to climb trees, Miss Shirley?" he challenged in a low voice.

Anne stepped in close to his outstretched arm, and he had to lean in to hear her whisper.

"I climb trees all the time, Mr Blythe."

She gave him a wink, and grinned at his stunned look. She turned at the foot of the stairs, in time to see the smile cover his handsome face.


	3. Chapter 3, Save the Date

Save the Date

 _June_

Charlie Sloane was someone who knew what he wanted.

As an older brother he knew how to get things done without taxing himself. His family held sway in Avonlea, his own reputation flawless. He had understood school yard politics even as a boy, and planned his strategies accordingly- the game of chess had made him a keen observer. He had ruled the Avonlea school unchallenged, in his own modest opinion.

But right now, he had a fairly big obstacle in his way- a lowly knight persisted in blocking him from his queen.

It would require strategy to separate himself from the pack, but then strategy was what Sloanes did best. He would win. He _always_ won.

Charlie looked out on the church courtyard with narrowed eyes. Anne Shirley stood talking with Diana Barry animatedly, and _predictably_ , Fred Wright and Gilbert Blythe hovered nearby. Charlie ground his teeth. How had Blythe managed to get on the inside track? _All that studying together_ \- well, he had ambitions too, they needn't think they were the only ones with grand plans for the future. And he didn't need to teach brats the alphabet to fund his; he would go to college when his mother said it was time. After all, what did Blythe have that he didn't? A meagre farm to inherit, a smallish family and lack of style. Salt of the earth, Charlie thought pompously, but hardly in his league.

Gilbert Blythe looked over at Anne, and grinned when she caught his eye. Gone were the days when he had to hide his glances from her, she was now just as likely to be looking for _him_. She looked so pretty at church today. He had rather guiltily spent the sermon following the curls in her auburn hair, and studied the curve of her cheek and neck- and was brought back to earth abruptly by his mother's poke in the ribs. She shook her head at him knowingly, before turning back to view the minister.

Out in the sunshine (and away from her smirk) he could look all he wanted. And Anne was drawing close to him, asking about the assignment they were working on. Just barely he remembered to nod, and hoped that he gave his answer coherently. She was talking to Diana as well now, and laughingly grabbed his sleeve. Gilbert sighed, loving the feel of her hands on him and the sound of her laugh.

He was suddenly jolted back down to earth, as Charlie's pompous air and tone cut through the atmosphere.

"Anne. I would like to speak with you. Perhaps you have heard that Josie is having a party this weekend."

Anne's startled eyes caught Gilbert's. "Oh- I- um, yes." He shrugged at her, not knowing what Charlie was up to.

"Well, I of course will be there. We will be taking the new buggy for a drive that afternoon, and of course we will pass by your lane."

"I- oh, that's- er, nice."

"And I could probably pick you up at about six thirty, I would recommend being ready a further ten minutes earlier, to allow for some polite chit chat with Miss Cuthbert."

"Charlie, I-" Her eyes flickered to Diana in distress, who could only look back in sympathy. Charlie of course was too busy pontificating to notice this. Gilbert frowned behind Charlie's back, with a suspicious twinkle in his eye.

At this point Charlie seemed to notice that Anne did not seem as keen as he might have expected, and with what he felt was a very gracious and understanding tone, he enquired stiffly "Is there any reason why you are unable to come to this event with me?"

At this point Gilbert stepped in.

"Actually Charlie, Fred and I had already arranged to pick up Diana and Anne from Orchard Slope for the party, hadn't we girls?"

Gilbert's bombshell hit the four listeners in different ways. A relieved Anne nodded very seriously; Fred, who had been trying to ask Diana for about a week suddenly turned red and gave a barely concealed sigh of relief. Diana who had been _hoping_ for an invitation suddenly became overcome with embarrassment and began to study her shoes. Charlie's face darkened in anger; he gave a stiff bow and said through tight lips "Perhaps _next_ time, Anne."

As he turned to go, Anne grabbed at Gil's hand without a word, and he winked at her conspiratorially. She suppressed a giggle, and quickly let go of him.

* * *

"By the way, I was very grateful for you intervening with Charlie today." Anne said to Gilbert later that afternoon. They were walking through some fields beside the Blythe farm, enjoying the mild spring weather. "He- well, he- Oh, I'm sorry Gil, he is your friend. I won't say any more."

Gilbert chuckled. "So are you. You just looked a bit stuck."

"Well, thank you. I don't quite like the assumptions he has a habit of making." Anne said, with a frown.

"Look, for that matter, _I_ made an assumption. You could have been going with someone already."

"Well, I wasn't. And you probably did Diana a favour by assuming with the two of them as well." she said with a sigh. "Are you sure you don't mind, Gil? You somewhat fell on your sword for me- you can't find your Princess Charming if you keep escorting _me_."

Gilbert held back a big grin with an effort. "She can wait. And we always have fun, don't we?"

* * *

 _July_

Gilbert straightened his back wearily. Somehow, a term of teaching never wore him out as much as a few weeks in the fields. He wiped his forehead, thinking longingly of a bath and shade. As he picked up the hoe again, he saw someone coming up through the fields. As the figure rounded a tree he grimaced, knowing the owner of the dress, and that there was unfortunately nowhere to hide.

"Gilbert Blythe," Josie simpered. "Fancy meeting you all the way out here!"

He pulled at his collar. "It's summertime on a farm Josie, where else would I be?" he said, politely bored.

"I'm surprised your father hasn't hired some more hands to give you a break from all of this work, Gilbert. After all, you're a teacher, not some illiterate farm boy."

Gilbert, feeling many layers of anger bubbling close to the surface, bit his tongue yet again. His family's financial status was something he would never chose to discuss, least of all with a Pye.

"Look, I have to get back to work; was there something you needed?"

"Just your company." She replied sweetly. "Ruby is organising a picnic for this weekend, and I thought you might like to accompany me."

Gilbert's face fell. "That's- err, nice Josie. I- um- have a lot of studying to do though- Anne and I have to finish some work this weekend."

Josie smirked. "Oh Anne won't be studying, Charlie told me he is taking her."

"He's _what_?" Gilbert's brow lowered.

"Yes, silly. I think he asked her last week. So are you coming then?"

Gilbert manufactured a smile. "No thanks. I've got too much work to do. Why don't you check with Moody though?"

Gilbert watched her leave, and when he went back to his work it was with reckless energy. Charlie was going with her, was he? Why hadn't she told him? Well, he was seeing Miss Shirley later, he'd ask her then….

* * *

Later that evening, freshly washed and attired, he headed across to Green Gables as planned, several books they were working on under his arm. He was surprised to run into Anne with her own pile of books halfway down the road.

"Aren't we at your place?" she asked with a confused look.

"I thought we were at _your_ house."

Anne sighed. "Oh dear. Well, we got the night right at least. Where do you want to go?"

Gilbert stood indecisively, then dumped his books on the ground and settled against the nearest tree. "Nowhere. Do we _have_ to work tonight?"

"We have those essays due." Anne pointed out before she grinned guiltily, surrendered and picked out her own tree. Gilbert smiled, knowing she wanted to relax as much as he did. "Oh alright, they can wait." She spread her skirts out on the grass, and closed her eyes with a smile. "This _is_ much better."

Gilbert watched her with a smile, agreeing wholeheartedly. He thought about the picnic and soured slightly, trying to approach the subject without giving away his feelings on the matter. "Word has it you can't work on it this weekend, you're attending Ruby's picnic with Charlie."

"I beg your pardon?" she said, arching her eyebrows.

"Josie told me you were going with him-"

Anne snorted in an unladylike manner. "Well, if _Josie_ says so, it must be true…" she drawled. "No, he hasn't asked me."

Gilbert studied her face, puzzled. "Well, why would she say it then?"

"Because she wanted you to ask her, I suppose."

He started to laugh. "Well, I told her I had too much to do and would rather stay home. I'm _not_ going with her."

Anne giggled too. "Well, what if I save _you_ this time? We can use the essays as an excuse. We'll get it done, go to the picnic a little late, and announce that we miraculously finished with minutes to spare."

"Anne, that's devious!"

"And?"

"And I like it. What will you do if Charlie asks you?"

"I'll tell him the same story you did." Anne said, smiling at him cheekily. "And it is most wonderfully true."

* * *

 _August_

Charlie was getting desperate. Of the invitations he had offered to Anne, he had been incensed to discover that Gilbert Blythe had beaten him almost every time. There had been a _plan_ , by August he should have been walking her home from church each week, and she would allow him to kiss her cheek in appropriate and well chaperoned settings. It was time to take matters in hand.

Charlie seized his chance on a grey Saturday morning. He spied Gilbert dropping into Blair's, and was there to accost him when he stepped out the double doors.

"Did you _have_ to stand right there?"

"Look here Gilbert, I want a word with you." Charlie said, his brow lowered.

Gilbert shrugged. "I'm walking home now, talk to me on the way."

"You don't have time for a civilised conversation?"

"I've got to do chores for Dad this afternoon." The two young men crossed the road to Gilbert's side of town. Charlie mumbled under his breath for a moment, before doggedly launching into the middle of his thoughts.

"See here, do you have some kind of understanding with Anne Shirley?"

Gilbert's eyes narrowed, but he refused to take the bait. "She's a friend, Charlie. Ever heard of being friends with girls?"

"Then if you're only 'friends', I think you ought to let someone else escort her places." Charlie's chin jutted out.

"Really? ' _Someone'_?" Gilbert said coolly.

"If there's no understanding, then you should step aside, I say. There's a ball coming up in Carmody in a fortnight, and I want to ask her to it." he demanded.

Gilbert shrugged, without concern. "No one will stop you from asking. But as for stepping aside, that's not really your call."

Charlie attempted to keep his temper in check, and smiled awkwardly. "Look, I'll probably let you dance with her at some point if she comes with me."

Gilbert laughed sardonically. "Charlie, _please_ let me be there when you tell Anne that; she'll be thrilled. Look, did you ever think that maybe she _likes_ to go places with me?"

Charlie's long face dropped further. "Blythe, I asked you to be decent and step back. But I'm asking her." A shrewd look came over his face. "I'm going to go over to her house tonight to ask her, as a gentleman I ask you to keep your distance."

Gilbert sighed. "Fine, Charlie. You have my word. I will not go over to Green Gables tonight."

Charlie nodded brusquely. "Good. I'm sure Josie will be happy to oblige you; she's talked of nothing else lately. I'll see you later." He walked away, and Gilbert watched him go with a twinkle in his eye. He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to whistle as he took a different road out of town.

* * *

Early that afternoon, Anne Shirley looked out the window to see Charlie coming down the lane. She sighed, and rose to greet him on the front porch. She glanced towards the kitchen door, hoping she could keep the visit brief.

"Charlie, what brings you out today?" she asked cordially.

Charlie walked up the stairs, and sat himself down on one of the chairs near the kitchen window. With an uneasy glance past his head, she attempted to smile.

"I have come to offer to escort you to the Carmody ball next week. I will of course pick you up from here promptly at five-thirty weather permitting, providing of course there are no unforeseen domestic delays in collecting you from here."

The unctuous tone was enough to cause Anne's lips to thin slightly, however she made her answer with all politeness.

"I am afraid Charlie, that I am already engaged to go to the ball with Gilbert. He asked me last week after the service on Sunday."

Charlie's mouth opened unflatteringly. "But he- but-" His face went a curious mixture of red and white, and he stood up from his place stiffly. He gave a tortured smile.

"I see I am not needed then, Anne. Good afternoon."

At this he stomped down the stairs, not waiting to see Anne go inside the house. However, as he turned to close the gate behind him, he looked up in shock to see Gilbert Blythe himself leaning on the door frame of Green Gables, with one leg crossed over the other. He grinned wickedly at Charlie, saluting him with the glass of lemonade held casually in his hand. The last thing Charlie did was to offer the Cuthbert gate a swift kick before hobbling furiously down the lane.

Inside, Anne turned from the afternoon tea table to see Gilbert coming back inside, a smug look on his face.

"And just what was that about?" she said, puzzled. "I thought you didn't want him to see you."

Gilbert smiled airily. "What does a farewell cost amongst old friends? One wants to be civil."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Well, what was it you came to ask me?"

"I'm checking that you want to go with me to the church picnic."

"Gilbert, that's not for a fortnight! We're going to the ball together before then."

"Oh, you know me. I like to be prepared."

Anne looked up at him in amusement. "You can ditch this old friend if you want to take someone else, you know. Princess Charming could still be there. You don't want to miss her just to save me from Charlie!"

Gilbert grinned at her. "Anne, at what point do we admit that we go together to these events because we honestly have more fun that way?" he asked candidly.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I'll admit it if you will, Gil. But don't you want to be- I don't know, rushing around like the others to find someone to court? I don't want to hold you back from that."

He sat down at the table across from her and folded his arms, watching her thoughtful face, propped up on slender fingers.

"I _like_ going with you; you're fun, and you make me laugh." He paused, trying to find the words. "For me, at this point in my life it's not about that. It's about – being a good teacher, and saving up for college; about the last years at home with my family, and studying-" He smiled at her sheepishly, hoping he wasn't giving too much away. "-and it's even about this time here with us. With good friends. Call me crazy, but the rest can wait." He watched her smile at him warmly, and his heart skipped a beat again.

"So, Miss Shirley, are you coming to the picnic with me?"

Anne chuckled. "Alright then, Gilbert. I'd be delighted. It's a date."


	4. Chapter 4, Temper, Temper

**I know, I know. I'm uploading updates quicker right now, however uni studies must shortly take over- so it will not be able to continue at this rate! And luckily the ideas are flowing faster right now. Thank you to everyone who has read this and commented, I'm so glad you have liked my little story. This chapter is inspired by my best friend of 27 years, a man I have had countless rows with, both publicly and otherwise... **

_Temper, Temper_

On a fine Saturday afternoon, Fred Wright dropped Anne and Gilbert off on the roadside, both of their homes a short distance away. As he and Diana drove past, Gilbert watched after them and sighed. Anne walked blithely back down the road, but he wasn't able to ignore the looks their friends had unconsciously given, and he caught up with her quickly.

"Anne, I need to talk to you."

"We've been together all afternoon Gil, remember?" she said with an easy smile.

"That's what I want to talk to you about." He stated, trying to restrain the anger he felt.

Anne turned back to him wide eyed. She hadn't heard him take that tone with her before, and was surprised to hear it now.

"What, Gil? What's happened?"

"I want to talk to you about the way you spoke to Fred just then."

"I didn't say anything terrible-"

Gilbert raked a hand through his hair. He hated being in this position, hated the idea of confronting her on this. Hated the idea that everything could end after this.

"You _embarrassed_ him back there in front of us. How could you do that?"

"We were all teasing-"

"No; you specifically went for Fred that time and I want to know why you're treating my friend like that."

Anne floundered, feeling caught by his eyes. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"You asked him what a 'boy' was doing talking about building a house for himself. You told him to go back to school and grow up properly."

"I- he laughed at it Gil, we were all laughing."

At this Gilbert let out a groan. "Yes, up until that point we were. You know he doesn't show his feelings that much, but they're still there. You humiliated him, and in front of Diana, you know he's-" Anne sat down on a nearby wooden fence.

"Yes I know what he's trying to do." Anne said, her voice shaking slightly. "She's only just seventeen. He has _no right_ to decide he wants to court her."

"He's a man." Gilbert said, incensed. "And he's not too young to start thinking about the kind of girl he would like to marry one day. And you know how much he likes her." He sat down next to her, trying to soften his words.

Anne gestured in frustration. "What is this need to be growing up so fast? Why can't things stay as they are for a few more years?"

"And what of what Diana wants?" he countered. "Surely you know your friend well enough to guess that she likes him too."

"We're too young for all of this." Anne said angrily.

"You're a trained school teacher! Have you noticed that we're not kids anymore, Anne?" Gilbert asked her, bewildered. "Look, I think I can understand how you feel-"

"I doubt that-"

" _And_ I'm not saying it's wrong to feel like that, but you can't prevent them from acting on how _they_ feel."

Anne was infuriated by his words, refusing to acknowledge Gilbert's point. "Fred is not the kind of man she wants-"

"WRONG." He said baldly. "He is the man she is looking at. He's looking to provide for her, he cares for her and is a gentleman. What more could you want for your best friend? And more than that, he's my oldest friend, how could you speak to him that way?"

Anne lifted her chin. "Gilbert, this is not about you."

His hazel eyes sparked dangerously. "No Anne, this is about you and your inability to let go of childhood. But you can't prevent everyone else from going where you don't want to go."

Anne's temper exploded. "And who are you to tell me what I think or feel? You don't have the right to assume you know me, or to tell me how to act-"

"Really?" he said sarcastically. "After we've been friends for the last year, and known each other for five before that, _I don't know you_? Well, that's great. If a good friend isn't allowed to speak their mind to you, who can? I'm not telling you anything you won't realise yourself later, I was trying to prevent that. But if this is what I can expect, then I guess I know how you really see me. I won't bother next time."

Anne stood frozen, his words echoing between them. "So you're just _giving up_ on me now?"

"Can you blame me for thinking that it's one fight then friendship over?" he cried angrily. " _Five years_ I waited for forgiveness, Anne, all for a stupid comment a boy would make. Why wouldn't I expect you to do it again, when this is far worse?"

Anne wiped furious tears away. "I can't believe after all this time you would cast that up to me."

"If you decide you want to talk about it, you know where to find me. I can't believe after all this time this is _still_ how you choose to react." Gilbert got to his feet and began to walk away.

"So are you just punishing me for how I behaved to you back then?" she said harshly, the sting of betrayal evident in her voice.

Gilbert turned back and looked at her, his eyes cold. " _I'm_ not the one who punishes people when they let them down. That's not me, that's _you_."

At this Anne let out a cry and turned blindly from him. She didn't hear him call behind her, and ran all the way home through the autumn trees, blinding in their autumn colours like the hair of the girl whose temper cost her her closest friend.

* * *

Anne stopped short of Green Gables at the gate, seeing Davy and Dora playing out the front of the house. She turned noiselessly into the bush, needing to escape from people's scrutiny. She walked deeply into the heart of the Haunted Wood, seeking out places where no one could follow her. In the dimmest part of the wood she slumped to the foot of a twisted old tree, and let the ready tears begin to fall.

She was ashamed of herself. Ashamed at her thoughtless words, at the memory of Diana's confused pink face, ashamed of her cruelty. She curled into a ball sobbing, hearing Gilbert's furious words all over again. Stupid, stupid little girl, who wouldn't admit that she was wrong, who drove him to say the words he wouldn't have spoken otherwise. When had he ever not heard her out? When had _he_ brought up the past like that?

He would be wiser now; he wouldn't put himself through that again. And she wouldn't ask him to.

* * *

She sat there in miserable solitude for over an hour. A bird flew overhead suddenly as if disturbed from its branch. Anne's head came up, hearing someone pushing through the leaves and branches. She shrunk into herself, hoping whoever it was would pass by. The steps got closer, and she closed her eyes with a groan. She didn't want to see anyone, least of all the person who seemed to be able to find her no matter where she went. They stopped in front of her, and Anne kept her eyes shut tightly.

" _Really_ Anne?"

She groaned. "Why are you here, Gilbert?"

"Because I shouldn't have said that."

Anne's eyes flew open, and she looked up to see a face that didn't look much better than her own. She frowned, tears gathering behind her eyelids, not wanting to see him upset again.

"You don't have to say that." Anne said, her voice spiritless. "I know I was wrong." She tucked her arms up close to her body, and fixed her eyes on a tree in the distance. She wouldn't impose on him any further. "I'll apologise to both of them."

"Alright."

She felt him sit down beside her, and held herself away stiffly. "You don't have to stay here with me."

Gilbert's voice was quiet. "I know that."

"I'm sorry, Gilbert." Long minutes passed, the two of them sitting in an unusual silence. Some time later Anne took a shuddering breath, and frowned fiercely. "I'm not going to do that to you again." she stated, her voice low.

He picked up a leaf from beside him, and smoothed it under his fingers with great deliberation. He started to say something, and seemed to hesitate. "Are you sure?" he asked softly.

Anne sighed, her hands coming up to cover her face. "I understand why you would think I would. And I was unfair today." She struggled to come up with words to say, and her hands fluttered hopelessly. "Gil, we're going to fight again." Gilbert looked over at her sharply, and she almost chuckled- almost. She threw the blade of grass she had been holding to the forest floor. "We'll lose our tempers; you'll tease me or sometimes use that giant three-years-older brain of yours to challenge me. We're too different to always agree." He looked at her regretfully, knowing that it was the truth. She let out a deep breath. "But I'll always come back to you."

He looked down at the ground for a moment, and Anne saw him swallow hard. "Promise?" he asked without looking at her. Her heart turned over for him, and she slipped her hand into his larger one.

"I promise. I won't do that again. I'll always come back. Just like you did." They sat there for long minutes, the peace of the woods settling over them.

After a time Gilbert sighed. "I won't bring it up again. That was mean, and I'm sorry. Friends?"

Anne squeezed his hand, and smiled. "Always."

Gilbert's eyes twinkled slightly. "So does that mean I can make you mad now? Like by giving you your old nickname?"

"You are _not_ calling me Carrots-"

"Oh, but I think I will." He said with a chuckle. "Come on, it's home time."

* * *

The following week, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Mrs Lynde sat herself down in the parlour of Green Gables. Marilla was pouring her tea, with a sigh.

"And then today as I walked home I heard the pair of them shouting at each other all the way up the lane! It's not decent. What if Mrs Harmon should have heard them?"

"Rachael, even the best of us lose our temper at times. Lord knows, there is sometimes enough provocation." Marilla said under her breath.

"Anne has her reputation to be thinking about, not to mention the very public fact that she wouldn't speak to the boy for so long. If I were you Marilla, I would warn Anne about the dangers of letting the sun go down on her wrath." She intoned imperiously.

"Like you observe with Matilda Blewitt, I suppose?" Marilla said with a slight smile.

"Oh, I've forgiven her. But that doesn't mean I need to speak to her for all that." Rachael replied scathingly. "And Anne may not get too many more chances with Gilbert, after all, we all know what the Blythes are like." At this Marilla's eyes narrowed, however she kept her mouth closed on the matter.

"Rachael, there is little point in my interfering. They are adults now; I can't hover over her as if she was small. At some point we have to trust them to- take care of each other properly."

At this point, Anne popped her head in at the door. Rachael opened her mouth to begin her lecture, but was forestalled by Anne herself.

"Marilla, we're going out on the pond now, the twins are settled in the kitchen having afternoon tea. Is there anything else you need?"

"Who is _we_?" Rachael demanded, and was effectively stunned into silence by Gilbert, who came up behind Anne.

"We'll be back by six, I think. Gilbert wants to get some schoolwork done later."

Marilla smiled at Anne indulgently. "Off you go then. Play nicely." Gilbert grinned back at her, and took the heavy basket Anne was trying to lift.

"Well, I _never_ ," Mrs Lynde said, standing to watch them walk through the gate from the parlour windows. "Are they always like that?"

Marilla raised one eyebrow and smiled. "No. sometimes they make up _much_ quicker."


	5. Chapter 5, In Sickness and in Health

In Sickness and in Health

On an early winter day where cool winds blew through the rapidly diminishing landscape, Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe were walking down old pathways deep in discussion. She walked as if dancing, arms gesturing widely in a theatrical manner, her laughter and eyes sparkling. Gilbert's hands were tucked into his pockets, a big grin on his face.

They had walked many a time in this way, and every time Gilbert found himself more and more attracted to the sunshine that strolled beside him. He kept his hands out of harm's way to stop himself from reaching for her- a tendency that was growing, he noticed with chagrin. He knew how to keep a calm exterior though, having no wish to be categorised with the other lovelorn suitors who were trying to get close to the elusive Miss Shirley.

The two of them had been arguing over an essay question they had been set, each disagreeing over the intention of the examiner. Gilbert had refused to budge on his reading of it, stating that the simplest explanation was most likely the correct one: Anne felt that they were supposed to think deeper, and had her own ideas of what the lecturer wished to see.

"Gilbert, you know I am usually right when it comes to the wording." She teased.

"Yes. You are." He agreed unexpectedly. "Except when you're WRONG…" he concluded with a stage whisper.

"Never." Anne had her nose in the air but a smile on her face as she sighed. "Isn't it delightful? We should have snow any time now; the air is crisp, and each house glows with firelight."

" _And_ everyone is out in the cold chopping wood to get that, Miss Shirley."

Anne made a face. "Thank you, Mr Practical; however you can't take the poetry out of a winters day- trees that show off their naked beauty, fields covered in white, the ice on the pond-" she sighed blissfully, and freshly inspired, she swung exuberantly around a nearby birch tree, one hand on the pale ivory trunk, the other outstretched- which collided violently with Gilbert's nose.

"Gilbert, oh Gilbert I'm so sorry!" Anne said with a small shriek. Bent in half, he clutched the nose that was now bleeding, with a deep groan. Anne had her handkerchief out in a flash to join his own in stemming the stream of red from his nose. Gilbert was saying something that she couldn't understand, and her hands were on his shoulder and face.

"What, Gil?"

"Only with you." He said, tipping his head back, even then with that irrepressible twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, be quiet. _You_ ran into my fist." She retorted, gentle hands stroking his face. "Come on, your house is the closest."

She led him through the woods next to his house and in through his front door, to meet a startled Mrs Blythe, who dropped tray she was holding in surprise.

"Gilbert John, what does this mean?" she cried, with a bewildered glance at the red head beside him.

"It's my fault, I hit him." Anne said mournfully, still trying to staunch the flow.

His mother's eyes went wide. "What did he say to you _this_ time?"

Gilbert groaned, and Anne flushed. "Accidentally, mother. I assume it was, anyhow." He narrowed his eyes at the girl beside him, and she grinned at him cheekily. Just then, a cough came from upstairs, and Anne saw Mrs Blythe and Gilbert both tense. She looked back at Gilbert, her eyes questioning.

"Anne, the medicine chest is in the kitchen, can you help clean Gilbert up? I need to go upstairs to his father." She hustled off, after watching Anne lead her son carefully away.

A few minutes later, the bleeding had stopped, and Anne used a bowl of water and a cloth to clean Gilbert's face. He was touched by her assistance (indeed, more than he wished to admit), but now tried to take the cloth back from her.

"It's alright, I know some girls don't like dealing with blood." He said, apologetically.

Anne looked at him, surprised. She took the cloth back and rinsed it, applying it once again to his face. "It doesn't bother me. Bleeding noses were a large part of my childhood, remember?" At this his face blanched in horror, and she rushed to reassure him. "I mean I looked after a lot of boys- four twin boys and a small house led to a lot of dust-ups." She smiled up at him.

Gilbert stood obediently, his heart thudding at her touch, and the fact that she was so completely relaxed. Up close to him and touching him gently- this did not happen every day! He fought to keep the smile off his face, the attempt making him realise he had a sore lip as well.

"You know you couldn't have had better aim." He said drolly. "What will I tell my students on Monday?"

Anne rolled her eyes, carefully wiping his cheek and chin with the cloth. "Just tell them you were the victim of a grand gesture. Or a bear attack, if that makes you seem manlier with the boys."

"I'm manly enough, thank you."

At this Anne suddenly blushed, having just noticed the stubble on his cheek that she had _just been_ _touching_ \- and pulled away from him slowly.

"You'll need to change your shirt, I think Gil." She said, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. Gilbert was looking at her with that funny look again, and she dropped the cloth in the bowl, not wanting him to see her fingers which were trembling for some unknown reason. He smiled at her and left the room to do as she suggested.

While he was gone, Anne washed her own hands, taking care to refill the bowl with fresh water when she was done. Her brow lowered, as she heard again the deep cough coming from the stairs.

Gilbert returned in a few minutes, by which time Anne had a pot of tea on the stove. He looked at her, faintly puzzled. Anne coloured again slightly.

"It's a girl thing. If someone is unwell, you make tea. I thought you and your parents could use it." She grinned at him, embarrassed.

Gilbert quirked an eyebrow. "You gave me a bleeding nose, not the plague."

"well- I meant your father, Gil."

Gilbert's smile faded. "It's just a cold, nothing serious."

Anne looked at him shrewdly as she filled the teapot and laid some cups on the bench. "You and your mother seem a little worried, that's all."

He shrugged, his frown deepening as she reached into the – _correct_ \- cupboard for the tea.

"How did you know where that was?" he asked, intrigued.

Anne smiled. "I helped your mother lay the tea things last time the Ladies Aid met here. I thought your parents might need some soothing- especially since I just broke their son's nose."

Gilbert scoffed. "You're such a drama queen. I can tell it's not broken, I'd be far less handsome if that was the case." He preened a little in the mirror, making Anne chuckle. By this time she had a tray on the table, and had poured him a cup. He turned to see her sitting down at his table, and had again that unaccountable feeling that this was a picture he wanted- no- _needed_ to see in his future. He sighed, trying to bring himself back to real life.

"Gilbert? Your father- Is it really not serious?" Anne asked, her face open.

"It's just a cold."

She kept looking at him, with those big grey eyes that seemed to see through him, and he found himself talking more than he had planned to. "We're just- jumpy, I suppose." he said slowly. "He's been well for a long time, and now- it just brings some old memories back."

Anne nodded. "I can understand that. You remember it clearly, don't you?"

He nodded, his face closed. "Dad was sick for a while before we went away. I grew up hearing him cough." He touched his sore lip gently, seeming to drop the subject; however Anne sat watching him in silence. Eventually he spoke again. "There were nights where I wasn't sure if he'd get another breath." He said, meeting her eyes frankly. "It was worse when we were in Alberta. It was just Dad and me, and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I was Dad's nurse, I suppose you might say." He gave her a grim smile. He turned his head, to hear more coughing coming from the rooms above. Anne saw the tension in his face and body, and wanted to ease it for him.

"Gil, is that why you want to be a doctor?" she asked softly.

He gave his nose an experimental poke, and grinned at her. "I guess so." He sighed again, and spoke quietly and deliberately. "I don't- _ever_ \- want to be in a position where someone I love is sick, and I'm not able to do something about it."

Anne smiled at him in compassion. Of course it had been hard; he was away from home for three years- _pushed into adult responsibility at ten_ \- just as she had been. Without thinking, she reached a hand across the table to grasp her friends' tightly.

"As you say, it's just a cold. And you are going to be a _wonderful_ doctor, Gilbert Blythe." He tightened his grip on her fingers, smiling at her. The two of them sat looking at each other for a moment, before they heard Mrs Blythe coming down the stairs again. At this Anne pulled away gently, and went to the stove to refill the teapot.

Gilbert's mother looked at her with astonishment, although she was not surprised to see the now familiar look of adoration on her son's face. She came close to inspect his face, not able to hide a droll look. Gilbert's face went red.

"Mama, its fine. Anne fixed me up."

Mrs Blythe turned to the girl, an amused grin on her face. "A broken slate, a bleeding nose. At least I know when you've been around, Anne."

Anne groaned. "I know, Mrs Blythe, I'm sorry. Especially when Mr Blythe isn't well."

She smiled back at the girl fondly. "It's just a cold. And thank you for organising the tea for us, Anne. Gilbert, I'll take a cup to your father, and I'll probably sit in there for a while."

As she left the room, Gilbert walked to the settee, and sat down on it with a sigh. Anne followed a moment later and sat beside him, and as he turned to look at her he saw with alarm the spots on her sleeve.

"Anne, I'm so sorry, look at your cuffs-"

Anne inspected them, and chuckled. "Never mind, I'll get changed as soon as I am at home. It's nothing compared to what I had to clean last week- Davy fell down the stairs and cut his lip open, and Dora promptly lost her dinner when she saw the blood. Even Marilla was a little kerflummoxed by the resultant mess."

Gilbert looked at her teasingly. "You know, since you handled that so well, I wonder if you should be coming with me to medical school when we're through college."

Anne looked up at him in surprise. "Oh, no Gil, I think teaching is more in my line. _You_ will be the medical genius, not me."

"And waste that bedside manner of yours?"

Anne looked dreamily into the fireplace nearby. "Not a waste, there are always people to tend to. I don't have to become a doctor to be a good teacher, a good neighbour- or a good mother."

All of a sudden, to Gilbert the fireplace seemed to be too close. He seemed to see Anne dressing a young child, stroking the face of a freckled lad with bruises and scrapes, holding a young girl in her arms as she cried bitterly. He looked at the girl beside him hungrily; wishing, wanting to hold her close, to make her promise him that the children would be _his_ as well. Instead he breathed in and out slowly.

 _Plenty of time for that. For now, just stay close._

Anne got to her feet reluctantly.

"I really must go, Gil. Marilla will want my help with some sewing for the twins this afternoon."

He sighed and stood as well, grabbing his hat and coat.

"Will you and your mother be alright?" she asked, her candid eyes on his.

"Of course. It's just a-"

She chuckled. "I _know_ , it's just a cold. But what was it you once told me? That it's alright to admit that the past affects us sometimes? " She sighed. "Marilla and I sometimes overreact to situations since Matthew…." She didn't want to finish the sentence, but instead gave him a bright look. "But the truth is you _know_ your father will be up and about soon, and laughing at the pair of you for treating him like an invalid."

Gilbert nodded, as she put her winter coat on.

"Don't walk me home Gil, go and sit with your parents for a little while. It'll help. I'll be home in just a few minutes."

He smiled at her tenderly. She grinned, and startled him when she reached up to touch his nose and bruised lip with feather-light fingertips. He stood as still as he could through her inspection, his eyes not leaving her face. He saw the smile blossom on her face as she pulled her hand away.

"You know Gil, you really ought to pick your friends better." She said with a grin. "I'm sure most ladies wouldn't give you a bleeding nose when you take them for a walk."

He chuckled, and reached to give her nose a tweak. "Yes, but at least you aren't boring."

* * *

A few days later Mrs Blythe was ironing handkerchiefs, and came to one with green embroidery, marked clearly with _AS._

"Gilbert, what is this doing here?" she asked, puzzled.

Her son caught his breath, having forgotten about using her handkerchief to clean his face. He schooled his features at once, and took the piece of fabric from his mother with a shrug.

"I'll get it back to her on the weekend, mother."

He walked to his room and shut the door behind him. As he sat down on his bed, he smoothed the fabric on his knee, and remembered the way she had touched and tended his bruised face. He placed the handkerchief in his breast pocket out of sight, and grinned, a little guiltily. Surely she wouldn't miss this one….

And she could give him a broken nose _any_ time she wanted.


	6. Chapter 6, Davy's Nemesis

**Thank you so much for reading! I'm honoured that you have enjoyed these chapters. Thank you to those who have commented; in so many ways my understanding of Anne and Gilbert has come through many of you wonderful writers out there- now as much canon to me as LMM herself. She made these wonderful characters, but you all helped me to love them even more. Thank you!**

 **Cate.**

Davy's Nemesis

Gilbert Blythe walked up the road towards Green Gables. It was a glorious summer's day, and he was hoping Anne would accompany him to the shore again. When he reached the gate however, he stopped, puzzled. Marilla was standing out on the back lawn, while Anne was calling to her from the attic window. He watched Marilla head to the kitchen side of the house and shook his head, assuming an explanation would be offered soon. He approached with a friendly smile, and waved up to Anne himself.

He was curious to see even at this distance that Anne was embarrassed, and decided the best thing he could do was to behave normally.

"Any chance you're free for a ramble today?" he called. Anne waved back quickly, and withdrew from the window. Gilbert chuckled, hoping that meant a _yes_. A few minutes later, Anne came out of the back doors as Marilla returned.

"It's good to see you, Gilbert. How has your week been?" Marilla asked cordially.

"Very well, Miss Cuthbert. Although perhaps I should be asking you and Anne that?" he replied, quirking one eyebrow at the pair of them. Anne looked over at Marilla, consternation on her face with a furious blush that wouldn't leave her cheeks. She addressed the older woman in a rush.

"I can't figure out how he did it. There is no direct path up there, and for the life of me I can't see how a seven year old could do such a thing."

Gilbert stood beside them, trying to hide the smile on his face.

" _Davy_ troubles, I assume?" he asked gravely.

Anne turned to him shamefacedly. "In a manner of speaking. Oh Gilbert, he's most likely done something terrible, but is denying everything! All he will say is that he's only seven, that he couldn't reach it, but there is no one nearby who _would_ do such a thing. And we need to figure out how to get them down!" she moaned, hiding her face in her hands.

Gilbert frowned, trying to sift through the unconnected statements. He grinned at a harassed Marilla and gave Anne's arm a quick squeeze. "Perhaps you could show me the problem? I might be able to sort it out for you." Anne looked in alarm towards the older woman, her cheeks now burning bright.

Marilla sighed and waved a hand in surrender. "You may as well show him, we can't get up there on our own, and we need to keep anyone else from seeing it."

Anne looked over at Gilbert, who was busy trying to keep a sober expression, and not make the situation- whatever it was- from becoming harder for her. Anne closed her eyes for a long moment, and then led him to the far side of the house. As Gilbert followed her in silence, his eyes looking upwards as hers were, he stopped suddenly, and let out a strained "Ah."

Anne turned herself to face him, her eyes resolutely on the ground. "Yes. You can see why we would prefer to keep this to ourselves."

Gilbert's own face flushed as he looked up to the weather vane at the top of the house, where a pair of bloomers and a pretty petticoat waved merrily. He choked down a nervous laugh, as she crossed her arms, looking away from him.

"So, Mr Blythe. Someone- apparently _not_ Davy has strung them up there." She said crisply. "It's supposedly too high for a seven year old to reach, and I have searched for a way to climb up there to no avail. John Henry from Mr Harrison's house is at home seeing his mother, and so is not here to act as an accomplice. However, Davy either had help, or got it up there alone. Either way, he is in a world of trouble. He's in his room until he confesses."

Gilbert nodded. "And they definitely came from this household? It's not a prank by someone else with someone else's clothes?" he asked with an unnaturally solemn face.

"Noooooo." Anne said quietly, not looking at Gilbert and her face a dull red. "Those would be mine." At that bombshell Gilbert suddenly coughed, rather glad she wasn't looking at him. "Oh Gil, If Mr Barry was here we could ask him to remove them, after all, he has a wife and two daughters; however the family is in Charlottown for their aunts birthday party." She hid her face in her hands shamefacedly.

At this, Gilbert assumed a businesslike face. "It's no problem, Anne. I'll fix it now, and then I'd like to have a little _word_ with Master Davy."

Gilbert headed towards the house and Anne watched him go with relief- until a sudden realisation made her face burn, and a small groan escape her lips. If Gilbert seeing her underwear at a distance was embarrassing, it was _nothing_ compared to the fact that he would have to handle them himself….

Ten minutes later and with several of the long ladders placed carefully around the house, Gilbert stood with one hand on the ridgepole, and the other carefully un-knotting the rope that held them aloft. He shook his head with an amused smile. It was the sort of thing he might have done when he was younger- and he could almost guarantee he knew how Davy had done it. He looked down to see Anne pacing anxiously, every now and then looking down the road. Determined to remove them as soon as possible for her sake, he pulled at the rope too quickly, and the pale green petticoat slipped from his fingers to his dismay. It floated lightly on the breeze onto the veranda roof, and he saw Anne put her hands to her forehead anxiously.

"Don't worry, I'll get it." he called to her. It was beside the first of the ladders and would be an easy job once this was done. He turned back to the job at hand, trying not to study too closely the captive items. Unbidden, the thought came to his mind that this was _not_ how he had hoped he would get to see these. Mentally cursing the thought for popping into his head, he shook himself and concentrated on untying the rope.

At this point Marilla came running out to Anne and whispered to her urgently, and she looked up him aghast.

"It's Rachael!" Anne hissed to him, as loudly as she dared, her face frozen in horror. "She's coming up the west lane. For pity's sake, let's hurry…."

Gilbert saw her gather her skirts together cautiously, and he watched her disappear from view momentarily as she gingerly climbed the ladder herself to retrieve the petticoat herself.

"Anne, please be careful…." He said, not willing to look away until she had reached the bottom again safely.

"Gil, I've climbed ladders before, you just worry about getting yourself down without injury." She said to him quietly.

He turned back to the rope and yanked it free, and not wanting to drop the frilly pink bloomers he now held, he shoved them in his back pocket for the climb down.

Two minutes later, Both Anne and Gilbert were back on solid ground. They were both breathing heavily, and could hear Mrs Lynde's strident tones coming through the house. Anne stayed behind to fix her hair, and as Gilbert moved towards the house, Anne had to suppress an undignified shriek. She crept up behind Gilbert as Rachael came to the back door. He had been trying to greet Rachael with his usual courtesy when he felt a small hand pluck something from his back pocket. Gil's eyes widened, realising what Anne had taken from him.

Apart from commenting on the hectic colour in Anne's face, Rachael let both of them pass without much fuss. Gilbert excused himself politely, and followed her to the back stairs. Anne was still shaking, and the pair of them burst into strained laughter as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Gil, I can't thank you enough." She whispered. "Rachael would never give us a minute's peace if she saw what just happened. The whole town would have heard by nightfall." She sat on the bottom step, unconsciously placing the bloomers in her lap, which Gilbert felt was best to ignore. He sat down beside her.

"I'm just going to take Davy for a little man to man discussion." he said mildly.

"Are you sure you want to do that, Gilbert?"

"Anne, who was the biggest prank player you knew?" he asked with an amused smile.

"Well, I _would_ have said you." She said reluctantly.

"Exactly. Let me at him."

"Oh, don't be too hard on him, after all, he is young-" she pleaded.

"And you're being way too soft. He's got you wound around his little finger." Gilbert said sternly. "He needs to be dealt with now, so he doesn't grow up tormenting people."

"Like you did?"

"Exactly. It took a slate to bring me into line. Now where is the little scoundrel?"

"In his room. You won't use corporal punishment?" she asked anxiously.

"Anne!" Gilbert said crossly. "He is neither my son nor my pupil; of course I won't do that. But I plan to put an end to this behaviour now."

Anne sighed. "Alright. Thank you. Honestly, Gilbert, he's getting completely beyond us. Do you really think you can get through to him? Do you know how he actually did it?"

"I have a fair idea," was all Gilbert would say. He nudged her shoulder with his, his mischievous smile in place. "It's a boy thing."

* * *

Gilbert marched the young sinner into the barn beside the house. When Anne had brought him out, miserable and tear-stained, he was still protesting that he was too small to do 'something like that'.

Gilbert smiled at him, after placing him on an upturned barrel.

"Now, Davy. We're going to have a nice little chat."

"I _didn't_ do it." Davy said, defiantly.

"Oh, but you did. And I even know _how_." At this Davy's face went pale. Gilbert bent down to look into his wide open eyes.

"When was my dad over here?" was the first unexpected question.

Davy gaped. "Your Dad? Mr Blythe? Oh, Um, maybe Thursday? I dunno, he was talking to Marilla."

"He showed you how to tie the rope that way, didn't he?" Gilbert fixed him with a stern look. Davy looked longingly towards the barn doors, and kicked a foot sullenly against the barrel. He reluctantly nodded. "And then he showed you how to make a lasso, didn't he?" Davy nodded again.

"Davy, do you know where I was when my Dad taught me that? In Alberta. On a ranch." Gilbert said coolly. "Now, you had better not pull a stunt like that again. Anne and Marilla are good enough to look after you, and you need to start showing them some respect."

Davy grumbled. "It's just a house full of girls. None of them know how to have a laugh."

"They laugh plenty. But if you mess with them, you will answer to _me_."

Davy narrowed his eyes, looking at the stern figure above him. He'd seen Gilbert Blythe around a lot, and he thought he knew why. He wasn't going to let himself be pushed around by a strict and proper school teacher who just wanted to get close to Anne.

"What can you do?" he said, his chin up defiantly.

Gilbert grinned. "I hoped you would ask that. You see, anything you can do to play up around here, I've done it. I know how you think. I know exactly what boys your age get up to, and I can tell both Anne and Marilla every scheme you could come up with."

Davy looked at him in scorn.

"Bet I can think of some you haven't done." He muttered, making Gilbert laugh.

"Try me."

"I put dye down the well."

"Did it. Turned the water yellow when I was ten."

"I tied Dora to a tree when we lived at home."

"I tied my mate Charlie to the bridge for a day when he took my fish." Gilbert countered evenly.

Davy narrowed his eyes at Gilbert, somehow not liking this contest.

"And before you ask, I lassoed a cow and got dragged around a hay field after it rained. I put a cat in the bathtub with my dad. I put honey on the kitchen floor to fill up my ant farm. I put our horse into the back yard so I could climb on the barn roof, and I pushed my cousins into a stream at a family wedding when they were bugging me."

Gilbert got down on Davy's level. "I'm the king of behaving badly." He said lazily. "You ask Anne what I was like at school. So if you think you can put one over me, you are mistaken. If you _ever_ embarrass Anne or Marilla like this again, I'll make sure that you answer to me. And you would be surprised to learn just how many ways I can make you regret that."

Davy merely gaped like a fish.

"Now, you've got a choice. You can have me as an ally or an enemy. I'm not going anywhere. I reckon you could use another boy around here; a house full of girls is a lot to handle. I can be that for you. But you will apologise to Marilla for the trouble you have caused, and you will tell Anne that you are _extremely_ sorry."

"It was a bit funny." Davy muttered.

"Not to me." Gilbert said grimly. "If you give Anne a hard time, I _guarantee_ I will find out about it. They may be girls and fall for the tears, but I won't."

Davy was silent for a minute, and then looked up at Gilbert, his face sullen. "Are you going to tell her everything?"

Gilbert straightened up, his face steady. "That's up to you. No more pranks, or I spill the beans."

* * *

Davy was marched inside, and apologised meekly before Marilla and Anne. His punishment from Marilla was extreme, and he sat at the table thoroughly cowed. He watched Gilbert stand in the background, and thought scornfully to himself that the man must be bluffing.

Gilbert levelled one glance at the grumpy seven year old, and walked casually up to Anne. He invited her to go for a walk with him, and she agreed quickly. Next Marilla placed a hand on his arm, offering to put a basket together for them to take. To cap it all off, a blushing Dora arrived with Gilbert's coat and tie, rescued before he had to climb the building.

In spite of himself, Davy had to admit, Gilbert had them all running circles around him. Perhaps he could read the boy's thoughts, as he pulled his coat on with a slight smile. The last thing Davy saw him do as he ushered Anne out the kitchen door before him, was to lower his brows at him, his hazel eyes twinkling. He pointed at himself and then Davy, and mouthed behind the ladies' backs- _"I'm watching you."_

Clearly, if he wanted to win, he was going to have to watch and see how Gilbert Blythe did it.


	7. Chapter 7, Let's Pretend

_Let's Pretend_

Gilbert threw his pencil down with a sigh. He looked around the Blythe kitchen, much dimmer than usual in the early afternoon. Anne and he had been studying for most of the day already. Both had assignments that had to be in the post by Monday, and both felt the lag on their minds and bodies.

The fire in the kitchen was blazing, adding some much needed warmth to the room. His mother, watchful and clucking had been coming and going all afternoon, content to oversee the pair of them in their usual pursuits.

Mrs Blythe caught her son's eye, and watched rub his face with his hands. Her eye then fell on the red-head beside him, who writing frantically and uncharacteristically silent. Gilbert's mother shook her head with a small smile. Both had taught school all week, only to turn around and work on their own studies as soon as the school house was closed. She had never fully understood her son's drive and ambition- now, she saw it reflected in the young woman who sat beside him at the kitchen table, pausing only when looking for the correct word.

"Gilbert dear, your father will be in for tea as soon as he finishes in the barn. I need to call on Mrs Ferguson briefly this afternoon, so you will need to get that ready; and you and Anne need to stop and eat something soon." She said, with a stern look at her boy.

"Mother, we ate earlier," he replied, rolling his eyes. "We just kept working."

At this Anne looked up from her work. "Truly, Mrs Blythe, you have looked after us wonderfully. We're not fading away." Anne said with a smile and a sparkle in her grey eyes.

"Well, see that you do _now_. Marilla won't thank me if I send you back worn out and undernourished."

As she swept out the door, Gilbert stood from the table and moved into the kitchen as his companion kept working.

"Gil? Do you need help with that?" Anne said suddenly.

"I know how to boil a kettle, thank you _Miss Shirley_. I do this for company all the time."

She chuckled. "As you wish." She suddenly put her pen down with a groan. "I have officially reached the point where _I do not care_."

"Of course you do."

"No, I don't. I don't _care_ what the square root of the hypotenuse is, I don't _care_ who started the Gallic wars, and I don't care if I used too many adjectives in my last three essays." Anne said, vindictively.

Gilbert laughed. "It's late November. We're just tired."

"You too?"

"Why do you think I'm listening to my mother and making tea right now, rather than procrastinating and going back to the books? Wouldn't that be more like me?"

Anne chuckled.

"Perhaps. Your mother is a dear to look after me like she does. I'm sure she reports back to Marilla how much I am eating. I would _expect_ her to fuss over her boy; however I'm just the person who keeps you tied down."

Gilbert flushed, and busied himself with the stove.

"What do you mean by that?" he said after a moment.

"I keep you tied to your books; I think she would prefer to see you outside more." Anne replied with a shrug.

"Maybe so, but college doesn't pass itself now, does it?"

Anne got to her feet restlessly, and wandered over to the kitchen window. She looked out on the rain soaked fields with a sigh, and then turned back to the cosy room to find Gilbert setting a plate of food out. Something about the way he was doing it made her chuckle.

"I never realised you had such a strong domestic side, Gil."

"Nor I you." Anne looked up at him sharply, but he continued in a teasing tone. "After all no mice drowned in your pantry this week and you only burnt _half_ the biscuits last time we were at Green Gables to study." He dodged the tea towel she threw at him, and laughed watching her try to remain angry.

"Everyone makes mistakes sometimes." She muttered crossly. "Must you be such a tease?"

"Come on, you wouldn't like me to stop altogether now, would you?"

Gilbert left the tray on the bench, and returned to the table.

"I think you will be like this all your life, Mr Blythe."

"I know. I'm delightful. Back to work?"

At this Anne slumped down, putting her head down with a groan. "I don't remember why we're doing this."

Gilbert chuckled, and put his hand on her arm "Come on Anne, it's alright. One essay left, and we still have tomorrow if we need it."

"Oh, but Gilbert, I promised to spend time with Diana tomorrow after church; we have been working _so_ hard and she is feeling a little neglected." Anne said, apologetically. Gilbert's heart fell, but he smiled anyway.

"We still have time. We'll get it done, I'll even be able to get you home tonight before the storm starts, and all will be fine."

"Are you sure it won't hit till tonight?" she said dubiously. "Marilla will need my help with Davy later."

"What about Dora?"

Anne gave a chuckle. "No, she's better behaved than I am. Davy is a different kettle of fish. I just want to be on hand by their bedtime."

Gilbert shrugged. "Dad says it will hit at about nine, that's why he's getting the animals settled early. I can take you whenever you want; although I think Mother is planning on feeding you up at dinnertime as well."

"I'll take your fathers word for it. Marilla wasn't really expecting me by tea time anyway." Gilbert kept his face neutral, but inside was jubilant.

Anne looked up into his face, the face of her most unexpected friend. Diana had asked her what it was like to be friends with a boy, and Anne had only been able to shrug. He was fun, and intelligent, and seemed to understand her in a way that even her bosom friend could not. She squirmed slightly. If only Avonlea would let them be without assuming… things. She sat up, pulling away slightly.

"Thank you." she said, with a sheepish smile. "I know, I'm just being a drama queen."

"It's because you're just a _girl_ …." Gilbert teased, earning a punch on the arm this time.

"And to think I thought boys grew out of this." she said, her eyes narrowing. "I seem to deal with mischievous boys all day at school, and then come home to _you_."

 _Oh, if only…._ he thought longingly. Gilbert sighed. Did she really have no idea what she was saying to him? Still, she wouldn't appreciate being called on it, best to just move on- after a careful mental note to dwell on that later. Interrupting his thoughts, Anne turned to look at him, determined.

"So why are we doing this?"

Gilbert frowned. "College, Anne. You know that."

"No, _why_." She emphasised. "There has to be something beyond that, to motivate us to do all this work when we are so tired- we need to remember what it _means_ to us." She sighed. "At least I do."

Gilbert went over to the fire to place another log on it, and was surprised to see that Anne had followed him, and was sitting on the rug in front of the old hearth. After a moment's pause he settled down there as well, pretending he hadn't seen a glimpse of her ankles as she crossed her legs on the floor.

"So what motivates you?" he asked.

"I don't know this week. Maybe becoming a famous author?" she said thoughtfully. "I keep changing my mind. I want to be educated, I want to know and understand the world we live in, and I want to make people happier. But how that comes from essays on long ago wars, I don't quite see this afternoon."

Gilbert studied her. She was drooping a little but talking to him earnestly; he wanted to keep her in this moment that just belonged to the two of them.

"For me, it's the future." He said slowly. "I can't get there without study, and I would also guess I can't get there without doing pretty well. Redmond is the doorway."

"For being a doctor?" she said, remembering their conversation in the springtime. He smiled and nodded. Anne watched him, leaning back on his hands and staring into the fire. She wanted him to continue. "What does it look like?" she said softly, bringing his eyes to her, puzzled. She grinned. "Paint me a picture Gil. What does it look like for Gilbert Blythe to be a doctor?"

"I don't know, I haven't done it yet—"he replied, confused.

She clapped her hands, turning to him, and crossing her legs under herself. ( _More ankle_ … he thought, suppressing a grin.) "You know Gilbert, imagine it. Imagine how you want it to look for you."

At this Gilbert became a little red. Not wanting to admit how much he imagined her being a part of his dreams, he floundered.

"I'll go first then, and you follow me." She said with a grin. "Alright, I am of course sitting at a writing desk, and my bookshelf is beside me; and on it are a row of earlier stories, with my name on the spine. And I have a letter on my desk from someone who read one of my stories, who says it made them laugh and cry; and that it changed their life completely to read it. Hopefully because of all of the wonderful studying we are doing both now and later." she gave a sigh at this, and clasped her hands. "Now you go."

Gilbert smiled, wanting to play along. "Alright. My Uncle Dave is a doctor; I spent a couple of summers at Four Winds with him when I was younger. You know, when we weren't speaking…." He drawled.

"Oh be quiet." Anne said, putting a hand to suddenly embarrassed cheeks. "What about it?"

"Well, I used to go on rounds with him sometimes. So I kind of saw what it would be like."

"No Gil, _play the game_. Imagine it's _you_ , what does it look like?"

"Fine, but I'm not looking at you." He said with a mock scowl. "You're way better at ' _let's pretend'_ than me."

"True, but go on." She waited expectantly, and eventually he obliged.

"Well, I- would get to help people. I would get to see them at their highest and low points, and be there to hopefully help them through it." He began talking faster, beginning to see the picture take shape in his mind. "And there are new scientific discoveries happening all the time now, Anne. There are things that they can cure now that no one was able to fifty years ago. People could live longer lives, and maybe we could prevent so much of the heartache that happens right now. Maybe no one would get sick like my Dad did."

"Or my parents." Anne said soberly. Gilbert looked at her regretfully, wishing he hadn't spoken that thought out loud. Anne caught his eye, and gave him a quick smile. "Don't mind me, you're doing great. Keep going."

"Well, I would have an office at my house, and people would call me there. I would go out with my bag to their homes and see what's wrong. Is that all?"

Anne shook her head. "Come on now Gilbert, dig deeper. Do you have a wife and a family in your house?"

Gilbert swallowed suddenly. "Of course, doctors are excellent catches." Giving the fire an unnecessary poke, he continued. "What about you? I assume you have a prospective husband?" he said in a light tone.

"Naturally. Perhaps a famous explorer or a poet." Anne said with a chuckle, and then added seriously- "I only hope he won't mind the writing desk there as well. Some men may not appreciate that."

"If he loves you he'll let you be you, won't he?" He said carefully. "So, will you be able to manage the writing desk _and_ some children?"

Anne laughed at that. "No doubt it would slow things down a little; especially if I had a lot of them."

"There's always hiring a maid to help out."

Her eyes brightened, and she clapped. "Oh, that is a good idea, we'll do that."

Gilbert's face was a study, trying to hide his exultation at Anne's accidental "we".

"I'd love a big family. Lots of children; I was really lonely as a kid." He said frankly.

"We have that in common. Of course, you could have _imagined_ siblings like I did…."

"Only you, Anne." He shook his head, and continued in the silence. "Children are amazing. Like, in Charlie's family, they all have the same brown hair and those bulging eyes, but then think of Diana's family: Minnie-May looks nothing like her. That's genetics for you. I'm exactly like dad, but then if I'd had siblings, would they be like my mother? It's fascinating."

Anne smiled. "I saw that with the Hammonds. Three sets of twins, only one of them identical. Even in personalities- one child would be tractable and do what they needed to; the other would be a holy terror that made Davy look like a saint. The two youngest girls gave me a terrible time when they were little."

Gilbert watched her face, pensive in the fire light. He still found it hard to believe that she had raised children when she was a child, and was at the same time fighting valiantly not to picture what their possible children could look like. Something _else_ to dwell on later.

"I look like both my parents." Anne said suddenly. "I have my fathers red hair, and apparently my mother's eyes and nose. Mrs Thomas told me that when I asked her, but she also assured me that my red hair would serve as a warning to everyone about me." She chuckled, even while remembering the sting of the comment.

"It tells people you're special." Gilbert said brusquely.

"Well, I hope my children don't end up with it, that's for sure." She said with a wry look. "Babies are so lovely, Gilbert. They are so curious; they watch you and copy your expressions, and they learn so quickly! No, you'll enjoy having lots of them."

"And what if I'm too busy working?" he countered. "What if I keep getting called out at night time to tend to everyone else's children? I always wondered why Uncle Dave never had kids, I hope that's not why."

"Oh, you will. Your wife will simply wait up for you at night, and she will tell you what they did that day - how one of the children nearly drowned the cat by accident, and that another one lost a tooth or began to walk. It will be lovely!" she enthused. "Of course she will miss you when you are gone, but you will always come back to home and hearth, to refresh yourself after saving lives."

Gilbert tried to keep his countenance steady at her comments, and he felt the need to break the moment before he did something stupid, like grabbing her to kiss every freckle on her beautiful face. He got up from the carpet, and grabbed her hand, pulling her up as well.

"I like that picture;" was all he said. "Come on Anne; we need tea, and we have to get on with things. For the sake of those dreams."

"Oh definitely. Now we have something to work for." She said with a huge smile. She walked over to the table, bringing some order to her papers.

"The tea is nearly ready, will you pour?" he asked her.

Anne moved over to take the tea pot from beside him, brushing against him as she did. Gilbert's heart skipped a beat, and he shook his head to clear it.

 _Please God,_ he thought with a wry chuckle _, please tell me that writing desk can sit in my house…._


	8. Chapter 8, Living Memory

Living memory

Marilla stood outside a little bedroom off the hall downstairs at Green Gables. The whitewashed door had been closed for some time, and she now stood in indecision in front of it. She heard a light step behind her, and felt Anne's arms come around her waist, a sigh coming from both of them.

"Are we going in there now?" Anne asked, subdued.

"We may as well." Marilla said with a sigh. "I've been putting it off all summer."

Anne laid her hand on the doorknob, and together they opened the door to Matthew's little downstairs room.

* * *

When the sun was high in the sky, Anne took the last box from the room, storing it in the cupboard under the hallway stairs. A knock came at the door, and she rose to open it reluctantly.

"Gilbert!" she said, surprised.

Before he could even greet her, he saw that she had been crying. "Anne, what's the matter? Are you alright?"

Anne smiled sheepishly at him, knowing that it was no use to pretend. "We're cleaning out Matthew's room today." She said softly. His eyes widened, and he looked past her to Marilla, piling boxes of what he assumed were clothes in the hallway. She had her back to him, and he thought he heard a small sniff coming from her. Gilbert looked back at Anne compassionately, and was pleased that she met his eye without embarrassment.

"I was coming to ask you if you wanted to walk into town, however I can see that you are busy." He said gently.

Marilla came to greet him, wiping her hands on her apron as she went.

"Anne, I will take the buggy over to Rachael's this afternoon, to see if she wants any of these for Thomas. I will probably stay there for tea, she asked me if I would yesterday." she said as briskly as she could manage.

"May I take those outside for you, Miss Cuthbert?" Gilbert offered.

"Oh, I'm sure Anne and I can manage. Thank you though, Gilbert."

At this Marilla walked back into the little room. Gilbert looked at Anne, seeing a swift look of misery cover her face. Before she could turn from him, he put his hand on her arm.

"What are you doing this afternoon?" he asked.

Anne sighed. "I have nothing planned, Gil. Although I may not be the best company today."

He stepped in close to her, and gave her elbow a squeeze. "What if today I'm just here to be company for you?"

She gave him a smile, and wiped away a tear. "I would like that. It would be nice to get away for a little while, and I won't worry about Marilla if she is with Mrs Lynde." She turned from him to wipe her eyes.

Gilbert grinned. "Well, Miss Shirley, where would you like to go? The Haunted Wood, Lovers Lane?"

Anne turned back thoughtfully, her head tilted to one side. "Gil? Could I ask a favour?" He nodded, intrigued. "Take me somewhere I've never been before. I've had a fairly haunted day." she said with a sigh. "I could use a place that has no memories yet."

"And if we accidentally make some?" he said with a big smile.

She chuckled. "Gil, it's us. Accidental memories are implied."

He turned to go. "I'll come back for you at about two."

* * *

When he returned, Anne was waiting for him at the gate with a big sun hat on her head. He grinned at her, and gave the long braid down her back a tug as she passed him. She then looked at the basket in his hands.

"Because we may need sustenance at tea time." he said, answering the unasked question.

"Where are we going?" she asked looking out towards the horizon.

"Have you ever been beyond Hester Grey's garden?"

Anne stopped, puzzled. " _Past_ it?"

He chuckled. "The garden is beautiful; however there are actually fields further back. I'm assuming you haven't been out there."

Anne shook her head with a sigh. "No." She resumed walking, thoughts of Matthew, of little Hester keeping pace with her. She gave a slight shiver, picturing grief following her like a phantom.

Gilbert watched her, somehow knowing the direction her thoughts had taken. He took her hand and gently tucked it into his arm.

"I promised you somewhere totally new, didn't I? With no memories? I _promise_ you will have fun."

Anne smiled up at him, relieved at his understanding. A small part of her gave a sigh of contentment at the feeling of his arm under her hand. It felt strong, safe- warm. All of the things she desperately needed today. She unconsciously pulled herself closer as they walked, and Gilbert looked at her hand, his heart thudding at the way she clung to him. It was at this point that he caught her eye, and as she opened her mouth a regretful look crossed her face, and he cut her off firmly. "You aren't allowed to call yourself bad company."

Anne stared at him, bemused. "How are you doing that, Gilbert? Have you dabbled in mind reading lately?"

He grinned at her. "Kindred spirits just know each other, don't they?" he said lightly, giving her hand a squeeze. "Just trust me; I'm taking you somewhere you will adore."

They walked the familiar paths with a comfortable silence. When they reached the garden, Gilbert took Anne through the old gardens, still colourful with summer blooms. Anne watched him sideways, steering them confidently west. They walked through a dense forest that she had never explored, secretive and dark: _unfriendly_ , Anne thought.

"Gil, are you absolutely _sure_ that this pathway-"

The two of them pushed past the last row of dark firs, and sunlight hit their faces in bright welcome. Anne stopped abruptly on the edge of the trees, completely speechless as she took in the view before her. She moved down the small incline, and Gilbert smiled to see her look of childish delight on her face. A little field, surrounded by dark firs on three sides, grass covered and sweet, lay before her. She ran down to the centre of the meadow, a little hollow filled with water, and bent to look at small asters waving underneath perfectly clear water. Gilbert heard her clear laughter echoing through the little place, and went down the hill to join her.

As he came alongside of her, to his surprise Anne flung her arms around him, giving him a big squeeze.

"It's marvellous, Gil, I had no idea this place was here! How on earth did you find it?" She pulled back from him, clapping her hands happily.

He chuckled, thrilled with her response. "I haven't been out her in years." He turned her to the fourth side of the field. "Without the trees there you can see down the valley, they are some of the farms heading towards Grafton. See that pond? Fred's aunt lives just beyond that, and they love to have company. We used to go there a lot. Fred and I found it just after I got back from Alberta."

"When I came here." Anne supplied with a smile.

"Exactly. So you like it?"

Anne knelt down at the side of the little pond carefully. "It's all the more wonderful because it's a surprise, I think." She said thoughtfully. "Gil, Look at the flowers waving underwater! Does it often fill after rain?"

Gilbert pulled a rug out from the basket, and laid it beside her. "Sometimes after a bigger rainfall. It's a funny field; it's different every time you come out here."

She looked back at him. "Why is that?"

"Sometimes there is no water, and it's just dry grass- sometimes there is a pool, sometimes these asters cover the hollow, and sometimes a long yellow grass is everywhere. In winter it becomes a blank slate." Gilbert sat on the rug, and looked at his companion with a mischievous smile. "It changes constantly. Like you."

Anne sat up, injured. "I do not change!"

"Do _so_." He said, amused. "There's lots of different Annes- there's happy Anne, thoughtful Anne, scholarly Anne, _always_ a poetic Anne, lost-in-a-story Anne; and of course the Anne who breaks slates over innocent boys' heads."

Anne rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, very innocent."

"I am. Ask my mother."

At this Anne began to laugh, picturing his doting mother saying exactly that. "Mr Blythe, you are many things, but innocent has never been one of them."

Gilbert pulled out the food he had his mother pack, and Anne came to sit next to him on the rug.

"It's lovely. Now I _know_ you had help with this," Anne teased.

"Mother just helped." He nudged her affectionately. "She asked me to tell you she's thinking of you and Marilla."

Anne sighed, and looked out over the waters.

"Please tell her I'm very grateful."

Gilbert watched her, wondering if she needed or wanted to talk. "Was it as hard as you expected?" he asked gently.

"Yes- and no." she replied in a soft voice. "So hard to remove his things- so hard to imagine he will never need them again. And yet so good to see them again."

Gilbert could see the tears in her eyes, and yet she was smiling. Just like the beautiful asters, waving gently underwater.

"He almost never went upstairs, did you know that?" she said, with a small chuckle. "He had his little room downstairs, and that was all he wanted. He loved to sit in the kitchen in front of the fire. We used to talk- or rather _I_ would talk, and he would sit, just happy because I was there." She wiped a tear away. "I wish I hadn't been at Queens for the last year of his life. I wish I could have been here." She said, unsteadily. Gilbert searched for a way to comfort her.

"And yet it's your teaching degree that helps Marilla to stay here." He said softly. "You're doing everything you can to make it easier for her."

"I hope so."

Gilbert handed her a plate of food. "Can you tell me about him? The things I wouldn't know?" he asked.

Anne laughed. "He didn't get to know too many people, I think. I don't know how he came to love me, he was scared of girls, and I never stopped talking. That should have been enough to terrify him, and yet he wasn't." Anne took a deep breath and let out out slowly. "I wouldn't have been here without him, Gil. Marilla didn't want to keep me in the beginning." She looked over, seeing the concern on his face. "Oh, Marilla loves me, I know that- but in the beginning she didn't know what to do with me- when Matthew convinced her to keep me, she made rules, corrected me, and tried to tame me into a respectable human being. Matthew just listened to me, loved me."

Gilbert looked at her wonderingly. "Listened?"

Anne smiled, and sighed. "When you're an orphan who lives on other people's charity, you don't have a voice." she said softly. "You get told to get in your place, to do your chores and lessons, and to be grateful. Matthew let me have a voice. He let me tell him all the crazy things I imagined; he didn't tell me I was silly for pretending. He was always kind. He let me dream bigger things for myself." Her eyes suddenly twinkled at Gilbert. "He even took on Marilla with regards to my dresses- he wanted me to have pretty ones. You can't imagine Gil, what it's like to have lived in such ugliness, and then have someone care about such trivial things as clothing!" She laughed.

Gilbert smiled at her. "Well, I'd always want my daughters to wear pretty clothes." He said, slightly bashful. "I can understand Matthew wanting that for you."

Anne laughed. "It was so lovely. He really did spoil me." Her voice suddenly faltered, and she pulled a chain she wore from her collar. "Marilla found this this morning." She opened the small silver locket with hands that trembled. "She said he wanted me to have their pictures inside, for when I went away. But he didn't have time to get them taken." At this, her tears began to fall, and Gilbert put a comforting arm around her. She sighed, and put her head on his shoulder.

"He gave me a home. He called me _his_ girl. I felt so loved. Gil, I had never belonged to anyone before that." she said brokenly. "I know I need to be thankful. I had him for five years."

"It's still okay to feel sad at times." Gilbert said, rubbing her arm gently. "You miss him."

After a moment, Anne lifted her head, still held securely. "You know, he mentioned you a little while before he died." she said, wiping more tears away.

Gilbert dropped his arm in surprise. "Me? What would he have to say about me?"

Anne laughed. "He saw you at church one Sunday, and when we were walking home, he told me you were a smart boy. He said that you were as smart as me. And you need to know, as far as Matthew was concerned, there was no higher praise." She smiled fondly in remembrance. "He said that two people like us should be friends."

Gilbert gave a satisfied smile. " _I_ told you that. So what did you say?"

Anne looked out to the sun, sinking lower in the late summer sky. "I told him I would try." She said in a low voice. Gilbert looked at her, a huge smile on his face, trying to disguise the warmth he felt bubbling up.

"So even without me giving up the school- you wanted to-" he trailed off.

She smiled. "Yes. I was- just trying to think of a way."

Gilbert stood up, offering Anne and hand up. He held onto it, all the boyish eagerness on his face that he felt when she first took his hand so many months ago. "I'm- I'm glad."

The two of them scouted every inch of the meadow that afternoon, finding hidden surprises in little hollows. Blackberry bushes in the far corner, and a small stream that tiny fish swam in. Anne insisted on picking the little purple asters from the pool itself. She stood in the shallows of the water, her skirts lifted clear of the surface, the prized purple flowers in the other hand. Gilbert came down to the water's edge, his shirtsleeves rolled up casually. She gave him a brilliant smile.

"I'm naming this place the 'Pool of Remembrance', or Matthew's Field." She said happily. "I think he would like that."

Gilbert grinned. "It's a good name. However, it's time to be heading back home; we still have quite a walk ahead of us, remember."

Anne waded out of the pool, and took his hand to step out. She looked up at him warmly. "Thank you so much, Gilbert. This place is truly a wonder." She held up her pretty flowers to inspect them thoughtfully. "Perhaps these will remind me of Matthew whenever I see them now."

"We'll come back on his anniversary, then." He said to her, with a smile.

* * *

 _Five Years later_

Anne sat in the living room at Patty's place, staring thoughtfully into an empty fireplace. Her face was shadowed, lost in times past. Her calendar reminded her that today was the date that Matthew had died. Five years ago, now. How had so much life come and gone since then? It was so fleeting.

Anne sighed. She was surrounded by loved ones, and doing the very thing she had longed to do back then; and yet in the corner of her heart lay a loss that never seemed to go away. Matthew understood- he had known her heart would struggle, far from home. She wore the little locket close to her heart now.

She had attended a concert with Roy that morning, and had tried to tell him what this day meant for her. He had smiled kindly, as he always did.

"I understand that loss leaves a bitter mark. Perhaps we should simply enjoy the brightness of the day, instead of dwelling on what has passed."

Anne had manufactured a smile, and kept her innermost feelings to herself.

Marilla would have understood, she would remember. Anne thought of Matthew's kindly face, at him calling her his girl. His shy chuckle, the way he would smoke his pipe on the veranda, vexing Marilla greatly.

Abruptly pulled from her thoughts, Anne heard the front door open, and Phil Gordon swept in through the little front door.

"Darling, there was a parcel of flowers for you on the doorstep. It's not really Royal's style to hand deliver, so it begs the question: who is your mystery man?" she taunted.

Anne looked up, with a frown, and Phil tossed the small bunch of flowers onto Anne's lap. She held up the little flowers to the light- the jewel bright, star-like little asters.

As she looked at them in wonder, she seemed to see a sunlit meadow, a pool filled with flowers and a man standing by the water side, holding his hand out to her, smiling.

"Honey, what's the matter?" Phil said, bewildered. "You look as if you've come across a ghost."

Anne lifted her face to look at Phil. "In a manner of speaking." she said quietly.

Clutching the little posy, Anne stood up and walked to her little blue room. She locked the door behind her, and moved to close the curtains. In the dimness, her hands shook as she read the little card tucked hastily into the white ribbon. In handwriting as familiar to her as her own, she read the words " _In remembrance."_

The tears began to fall and Anne crumpled to the little braided mat on the floor. The sobs coming from her mouth were muffled by the handkerchief she carried; the little purple flowers clutched close to her heart.


	9. Chapter 9, For Richer, For Poorer

**Thanks again for your gorgeous comments, I appreciate them so much! My uni semester began today, so naturally I am uploading a story instead of studying: not a promising start. I have some little ideas floating in my brain; Kwak, you will be glad to hear that the chapter story is getting a lot more thought-attention now, and I will hopefully start work on that soon. Thank you all for your encouragement, I hope you are enjoying the products of my overactive imagination! Cate.**

* * *

For Richer, for Poorer

The spring afternoon was drawing to a close, when Gilbert Blythe called the fortnightly meeting of the AVIS to a close. He stood up and Anne came to stand next to him, taking the papers from his hands to file in the small folder she held. He smiled at her briefly, watching the room start to empty.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Josie moving closer to the table. She came to stand directly in front of him, and he sighed impatiently.

"Yes, Josie?"

"I don't think you gave my idea much floor time, _Mr President_." She said with an acid sweetness. "Clearly you book worms have little time to spare, however for the rest of us want to have some fun."

Gilbert looked at her calmly. "The reason we didn't give that suggestion more time, is that we don't have the funds available for a catered event."

"But if we all pay some extra-"

"Josie, we voted." he said, interrupting. "We're not doing it. You may be comfortable organising how everyone spends their money, but I won't do that."

Josie's eyes narrowed. "Look here, most of us have families who are happy to chip in, and I didn't think _you_ would complain about the cost, since you _work_." She said, disdainfully.

"You can lodge a grievance next fortnight, but for now this conversation is _done_. Now if you don't mind, I have a meeting to get to." He snapped his satchel closed and folded his arms, watching her stomp out of the room- not before giving a venomous look for the girl beside him.

Anne looked up at him in surprise. "Gil? You have a meeting? I thought we were going for a walk this afternoon."

He looked at her with a return of his teasing smile, and spoke in an undertone. "That _is_ my meeting, Miss Shirley. Don't worry; I'll even get you to take minutes if you like."

When the hall had emptied though, and Anne and Gilbert had left their bags at the Green Gables gate, Gilbert was unaccountably silent. He strode along, his brow lowered and kicking at a rock on the road. Anne wasn't used to seeing him this way- something was obviously bothering him; and as he had done so many times for her, she wanted to get him to talk to her.

"It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

"Mmmm. Lovely." He said absently.

"Perfect for building a snowman, don't you think?" she said seriously, breaking into a grin when his startled eyes found hers. She winked at him, and ran to try and beat him to the bridge.

Gilbert chuckled, and managed to catch her easily at the waters edge. After ruffling her hair, much to her indignation, they meandered over the bridge together. At the top of the arch, Gilbert sat down on the side, his legs dangling over edge of the wooden planks. Anne sat beside him as she had done many times, and folded her arms on the rail before her. She let out a contented sigh that brought Gilbert's head around, and he looked down at her thinking absently that she always looked so pretty in green.

"So what upset you today, Gil?"

"It's nothing Anne." he said, trying to smile. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Look, I just lost my temper with Josie. I shouldn't have reacted."

"No, she's not worth it." Anne said, looking at him candidly. "I'm asking, because you _don't_ usually react. That's something _I_ would do, and _you_ would talk me down from it. So what was different today?"

Gilbert hedged a little. "Can't a fellow just have a bad day?" he joked.

She looked out at the still lake beneath them, and sighed. "Nooo-" she said slowly. "I think I know you better than that; I think something is really bothering you. You _know_ you can tell me anything, Gil." She laid her cheek on her outstretched arms, and looked up at him patiently.

As a matter of fact, there were several things he _couldn't_ tell her, however he decided to keep that thought to himself. He grimaced, and picked a stone off the bridge beside him, and tossed in the water with a resounding plop.

"It's stupid." He finally muttered. "There's no point talking about what I can't change."

"Unless it makes you feel better to share a burden with a friend."

Gilbert sighed, his face clouded. "Did you know Charlie is heading to Redmond next year?"

Anne chuckled. "Yes, he told me at the dance last night. He seems pretty chuffed with himself. Of course, his mother has still six months to change his mind; apparently she doesn't want her son at the mercy of the sinful big city."

Gilbert remained silent.

"What is it, Gil?" she asked softly.

He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "I'm just wishing my life away." He said, with an unusual bitterness in his voice. "And it's not going by any faster. I am working- and saving- and doing extra study to get ahead, and it- it may take even longer now. And every year it gets delayed, it adds _time_." he said, his hands clenching in frustration.

Anne listened intently. She watched his hazel eyes darkening from the turmoil inside, willing him to continue.

" _Four_ years of college- and then another _three_ for medical school- always assuming I can win a scholarship or two. And how can I guarantee _that_?" One hand went into his curly hair, agitated in a way Anne had not seen in him before. "There is too much time to go before I can- before I can even _hope_ -" he stopped abruptly, and changed thought.

" _Everyone_ else gets to start their lives now. The others at the meeting today, what are they waiting for? They aren't chasing goals that seem to get more elusive with every year that goes by. Charlie gets to go to college whenever he chooses, and yet it took him _two years_ to decide to do it. He'll just go into his family's business at the end, just the same. And it's not a possibility for me to do that- it's not enough for me. I can't just settle as a farmer. Charlie's not even thinking about extra work, but look at us- we have pinched and saved, we have had a plan for so long, and yet it still seems so far away- impossible- and I feel like I'm doomed to wander this earth, forever wanting things that I can't have." he said, dully.

Anne shivered. His words echoed across the still lake, but echoed in her heart as well; bringing up the fears she was well practised at ignoring. And it was _true_. They had no guarantees; they would have to earn every cent it would take to put them through college; it would be an uphill struggle all the way. She lifted her hand from the rail, and reached for his. They sat in silence for a long time, the gentle pressure of her fingers bringing some calm to his heart.

When he could trust himself to speak, he turned to her. "I'm sorry for dumping that on you." He muttered. "I know it doesn't do to dwell on it."

"But it's how you feel." She said quietly, and after a moment he nodded. She squeezed his hand again, and when he looked at her, he was startled to see tears in her eyes. "I know. I feel it too."

Gilbert was distraught. "Anne, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Gil, it's alright." Anne sighed, looking around her as if to find the words. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever make it to Redmond. Even if I can manage to save enough, Marilla needs me. The twins are still so young, and Marilla's eyes aren't recovering like she hoped." She wiped her eyes with her free hand and laid her red head on the rail, looking over at Gilbert. "I didn't know you were concerned about it too, Gil."

He didn't let go of her hand, and gave it a squeeze. "I- I guess I just wish money wasn't an issue." He said slowly. "My parents have given me everything they could to get me this far, I won't let them do any more. _I_ need to do this. And I'll work for it. But today- hearing about Charlie- and then hearing Josie's taunts- I just lost it." He let out a breath slowly. "What do you say to yourself when you worry?" he asked.

She looked at him, her eyes quizzical. "It might seem strange to you."

"Why would it?"

Anne shrugged, giving him a wistful smile. "I do worry about it at times." She said quietly. "But then I remind myself that I'm not where I was seven years ago." She sat up slightly, her eyes looking far into the distance.

"I've seen what real poverty is- I lived it for eleven years. But now, I have an education; I have the ability to work, _and_ the ability to work towards my dreams, even if it does take a long time. I have people here who will support me no matter what I decide to do. No matter what I lack now, the world can't take away _possibility_ from me. And it definitely can't take it away from you, Gilbert."

He looked over at her in stunned silence.

"I know it's a long journey that we've both chosen, but isn't the end of the road worth it?" Anne turned to him, her eyes growing soft. "Gil, there is a future _you_ , a future Doctor Blythe who is so thankful for what you are doing right now. He knows what you are sacrificing, and he would tell you it's worth it. And deep down you know that, already. That's why you work so hard. And irrespective of Charlie and the others who seem to have everything handed to them on a plate, you _know_ that it will mean more to us. We will be stronger for having to earn this, stronger for pushing ourselves harder than they will."

Anne came to a halt, needing to take a breath from her speech. She saw Gilbert swallowing hard, but was even more surprised when he put an arm around her and hugged her tightly. They stayed that way for a moment, the gentle breeze putting faint ripples on the untroubled water. Eventually Anne pulled back from him, her face flushing. She looked at him, shyly.

"You also need to know, that I know exactly what you gave up for me, Gil." He frowned, and Anne continued, a little embarrassed. "You would have been living at home if you taught in Avonlea; you wouldn't need to pay board. You might have gone to Redmond sooner if it wasn't for me."

"Anne, _you_ gave up a scholarship for Marilla. You sacrificed too, and it was a much bigger one."

"Gilbert, it was the only thing I could do." she protested.

"As was what I gave up." He said quietly. He climbed to his feet slowly, and took her hand in his. "Anne, I wouldn't want to go there without you. This is _our_ battle."

"Nor I you." She said honestly, with a slight smile.

"So, we're doing it together?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

"Definitely." Anne answered, and smiled at him. Gilbert had a spring in his step that had been missing, and as he looked at the girl beside him, he wondered how she had managed to pick him up so effectively. As they walked back down the bridge, she spoke words he long remembered.

"We don't ever need to be afraid of being poor, Gilbert. It has no horrors for me. The only thing we need to fear is anything that would stop us from dreaming, from working. From apathy, or fear or intimidation. And you know that there is _always_ another bend in the road."

Gilbert laughed. "You and your bendy roads. What's around the next one then?"

"Well…" Anne drawled. "Since you _ask_... Marilla made a chocolate cake yesterday, and I'm betting she left us some. I'll also bet I can make it to the house before _you_ can, Mr Blythe." She wrinkled her nose at him cheekily, and sprinted off as quickly as her skirts would let her. Gilbert laughed, and ran down the pathway to Green Gables in her wake.


	10. Chapter 10, 4 Minutes and 17 Seconds

**I feel like Monty Python here... "And now for something a little bit different." This is a concept I have had in the back of my mind for a long time, I hope I have been able to do it justice! I am quoting Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Nights Dream_ here. Thank you for reading! Cate.**

* * *

We rarely know what is happening in someone else's heart. For Gilbert Blythe, there was a small window in time that he was completely unaware of.

Four minutes and seventeen seconds.

A window of opportunity that closed almost as soon as it opened, that would not open up again for many years.

 ** _Four Minutes and Seventeen Seconds._**

Late one summer afternoon, Anne Shirley walked along the road between Green Gables and the Blythe residence, her hand occupied with a basket of baked goods she had packed earlier. Also in the basket was a worn copy of Shakespeare's works, which she and Gilbert were currently using in their studies. As she came around the corner, she saw him standing, as expected by the gate, his long form relaxing against the fence post.

"Are you ready?" she called, teasingly.

"Ready to make a donkey out of myself, I assume." he said drily.

She laughed. "You know that atmosphere is everything, Mr Blythe. _A Midsummer Night's dream_ will be truly magical deep in the woods."

He swung out of the gate easily, his own book in his hands, which he unceremoniously dropped in her basket, taking the handle from her then. "I don't doubt that, Miss Shirley. I just wonder what you will have me doing out there, especially after what you tried with _Elaine_ …." he said pointedly, earning himself a shove.

"No water, Gil, just trees. Many, many trees."

He looked across at her with a smile. "Is that why you wore this dress? It's pretty."

Anne looked down at the delicate fabric with smile. It was a pretty white print with green ivy trailing over the material, making her feel like a queen of the forest.

"Thank you. And yes, I felt it was in keeping with our outing. We're going out to Hester Gray's garden." she said with a big smile.

When they reached the garden Anne led them down the row of cherry trees, and they set up their picnic beneath them. With cups of cordial in one hand, and their books in the other, they sat reading aloud to each other in the sunny afternoon.

Anne eventually stretched out on her front next to where Gilbert was sitting, her book propped up in front of her.

"The real question _is_ , what made the king and queen of the fairies behave as they did?" she asked thoughtfully. "I never understood how the little changeling boy was able to divide them from each other. "

Gilbert shrugged. "Maybe it was never about the boy. Or maybe they weren't really that close to begin with."

At that, Anne's frown was directed at the unfortunate scholar.

"Gilbert, how can you _say_ that?" she said, reproachful. "They are the king and queen- they _must_ love each other. They _do_."

He stretched out beside her, grinning at her cross face. "Come on Miss Shirley, you know it's permissible to have an alternative opinion."

"Not that one! Oberon and Titania must love each other deeply. The whole passage where she describes the effects of their conflict on the countryside around them _shows_ how deeply hurt they are."

Gilbert reached across her to take another biscuit. "If they truly cared, how could something so small divide them? Was there no hope of sharing the boy? And besides, if Oberon really loved her, why would he resort to humiliating and hurting her, finally tricking her into giving up the changeling?" he said reasonably, making Anne sit up indignantly. She leaned down to give her words emphasis.

"They _do_ love each other. What if it was jealousy? You see that Oberon taunts her about Theseus, as Titania teases him about being in love with Hippolyta."

Gilbert nodded solemnly. "So maybe they just needed some good old marriage counselling." he said with a smirk.

At this Anne turned crimson, and she got up to storm away.

"You won't even take it seriously! I'm trying to help us learn here, but if all you can do is tease-"

Gilbert sprang up, and grabbed her arm. "Anne, I'm sorry, I promise I won't tease anymore. I just don't get this stuff like you do."

She glared back at him. "You know full well you understand it as well as me. You are just being _stubborn_ -"

"And you're not listening to what I have to say either." He said, hands on hips. "I thought we worked better as a team, even if we come at the thing from different angles? Has it failed us yet?"

Anne sighed reluctantly. "I suppose not." She gave him one last frown. "I don't like it when you make fun of a story I love." she said, grumbling.

"Alright, I won't do that. But no more jumping down my throat when I give you my honest opinion."

The two of them sat back down, and as Anne pulled the book back onto her lap, she felt something tickling above her ear and flinched. She was surprised to see Gilbert's hand pushing a flower into her hair.

"If we're going to do this, let's do it right." he said with a grin. "There are all kinds of flowers out here, we'll make you Titania and I'll be Oberon. Then we'll argue it through and see who wins in the end."

Anne chuckled, finding novelty in the idea, and soon her hair held a wreath picked from the old garden and its surrounds. Gilbert even found a small pink rose on a bush that had run wild in the eastern corner of the garden.

Suitably attired, and each munching an apple, the two of them kept reading the old story. Anne smiled, watching Gilbert assume the role of Oberon again. She had forgotten that he had often recited, and was captivated by his portrayal. The pride of the king, the spite of the thwarted lover took shape before her, and she found herself clapping delightedly when he had finished.

As twilight fell in the little garden, Anne lifted her head from her book. The warm breeze, carrying the scent of the ocean blew through the pine trees behind them, its haunting sound playing like music in her ears. Anne took a deep breath in, watching the flowers bend across the field. The trickle of the creek nearby, the late cherry blossoms dropping over them where they sat. Anne thought dreamily that the evening had an odd sort of magic about it. _Anything_ might happen on a night like this.

She looked across at Gilbert, lying back on the rug near her, book discarded in the dimness and hands clasped behind his head. He was looking out at the horizon, and in the silence she studied his untroubled face. Dark browed, teasing hazel eyes that would sometimes change when she looked into them of late. A tenderness would appear there, an unspoken question. Anne gave a little shiver. It was even _more_ unsettling that sometimes she almost seemed to answer him.

A blossom fell on his chest, and she watched him pick it up gently. A smile curved on her lips, watching him. He _was_ handsome, she had to admit. His curly hair messy in the wind, and the twisted grin that would appear so easily when she was around. It was in these moments that she realised his company was so very _satisfying_. A likeness of mind, his quick humour and that intelligence that she had to work so hard to keep up with!

She suddenly noticed those eyes fixed on her and went pink, knowing he had caught her staring. He sat up, holding the blossom in the palm of his hand and reached out to grab hers with other hand.

 _"First I will release the fairy queen.…"_ he quoted with a grin, pulling her to her feet. Anne smiled at him, as he crushed the blossom in his fingers, and pretended to anoint her eyes.

" _Be_ as thou wast wont to be;  
 _See_ as thou wast wont to see….  
Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen." he said in a whisper.

 _Four minutes and seventeen seconds._

She noticed the first stars were beginning to come out in the steel blue sky, and Anne suddenly let go of Gilbert's hand, with a mischievous smile.

 _"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,  
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows," _she answered cheekily as she walked down towards the little creek. Gilbert followed her in step, over fallen branches, the faint light sparkling on the water's surface.

"Oh, isn't it wonderful, Gil?" she said, her voice dreamy and content. "A garden with a brook in it by moonlight. What in the world could be more delightful?"

Gilbert smiled at her. "You."

Her startled eyes flickered up to meet his, and he shrugged enigmatically. "Moonlight makes people say the craziest things, don't you think?" he said, with a grin. Anne shook her head at him, her own smile lurking.

"I think it's made you forget yourself, Mr Blythe." She teased.

"I am the escort of the queen of the fairies, Anne. I don't forget myself." He took her hand and bowed to her in a surprisingly courtly manner.

Anne laughed. "I told you it would be magical out here. Now I wonder what Charlie would say if he knew what a wonderful King of the fairies you make, Gilbert?" her eyes twinkled at him. "I have a good mind to tell him tomorrow. And _Moody_ , and _Fred_ -"

"Oh _no_ you don't-" He went to grab her, laughing, however she was quicker than he to move, and she swiftly ran back the way they had come. He caught her as she arrived under the cherry tree, and wrapped long arms around her, lifting her off the ground. He placed her down without releasing her, and she shook back the hair from her eyes to see him. Hearts pounding, and bodies suddenly still.

 _Four minutes and twenty three seconds._

The smell of the flowers in her hair, the starlight and gentle breeze acted on her like a lullaby. For once his closeness didn't threaten; for once it felt natural to be here. Her chest rose and fell with a breath that somehow didn't seem enough. She could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, and the unexpected strength in his arms. Her eyes were drawn to his lips, close to her own, open and breathless as hers were. Disconnected thoughts ran distractedly through her mind, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to be _kissed_ by him. And what would happen if he _did._

And in that moment, where her eyes looked into his with a new found consciousness, Gilbert suddenly recollected himself. He thought of the dreams they had, of the patience he would need in the years to come, and somehow forced himself to step away from her gently.

Anne's eyes were wide and unsure as he turned away, and she retreated into unaccustomed shyness and confusion. Seeing him turn from her _hurt_ her somehow. No, no, this couldn't be right, it wasn't real. He turned to her again with his ready smile, and she saw it- _the play within a play._ Her friend, walking with her into the realms of imagination for her sake, play acting to make her laugh. She had been swept away by the beauty and romance of the night, that was all. At that moment, Anne began to distance herself from the dangerous moment that had opened up for her- resolutely packing it away with forbidden and foolish imaginations.

They gathered up the remains of the picnic and walked home together; Gilbert happily unconscious of the opportunity that had just passed him by, and Anne, walling up her heart a little more with every step. When at last he left her at her gate, he reached up and pulled the wreath of flowers from her hair lightly.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked her in his normal voice.

Her eyes lowered, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Gilbert. I have some things I need to do tomorrow. Perhaps the day after that though?"

She looked up to see an easy smile cross his face, and he handed her the circlet of flowers.

"Sure. I'll see you then. Night, Anne." He walked back down the pathway in the moonlight, and as she watched him go a little shiver went through her. She mustn't be fooled again.

" _No more yielding, but a dream_." she whispered to herself.

* * *

Some years later, on an unseasonably cold spring afternoon in April, Anne stood at a lectern delivering her paper on Shakespeare's use of metaphor to the Redmond Senior English class. She looked out over the room as she spoke, catching Roy doodling on a piece of paper absently. She spoke eloquently and disinterestedly on _A Midsummer Night's Dream,_ and the ways Shakespeare conveyed tension and disharmony through the environment; when her voice suddenly faltered. An unbidden spectre rose before her eyes. Instead of seeing the pale and effeminate Oberon that was often portrayed, she saw brown, curly hair and a pair of roguish hazel eyes, challenging and passionate in the depths of an old garden. Like in a kaleidoscope, she saw a moment broken, a drawing away, and the eventual death of something precious in an orchard.

The class grew slightly restless in the uneasy silence, and even Roy looked up to see what Anne was taking so long about. Her anguished eyes were drawn to the dark clouds outside. As she tried to gather her thoughts, she asked herself bleakly how long it had been since she had seen him. How long since they had been a boy and girl, finding hidden places in the woods together. She forced herself to finish her speech, and it was the absent curly haired boy that she addressed in a soft, broken voice.

 _"And this same progeny of evils comes  
From our debate, from our dissension;  
We are their parents and original."_


	11. Chapter 11, Only Almost

**So this was just a little something for fun...** **There's a line on Phineas and Ferb that always makes me laugh: "** ** _She has a rich internal life_** **." When I think of the AoA Gilbert, you** ** _have_** **to assume he's thinking some pretty crazy things through all the time he spends with Anne…. Rich internal life indeed.**

* * *

Only Almost

Gilbert Blythe had a new pastime.

All he had to do was keep a completely neutral expression on his face while near Anne Shirley. And then keep a count of how many times he only _almost_ kissed her.

It was necessary to keep up appearances in front of her. Various moments had begun to occur where he found himself being studied by Anne, a new self-consciousness replacing the easy comradeship he had become accustomed to. She would sometimes appear to read his thoughts, and draw away as if she had been burned- then she would hold him at arm's length until he had retreated to a safe distance. If he had entertained hopes that seeing Diana and Fred in love would make her long for that for herself, his hopes had been well and truly dashed- Anne simply wasn't looking for more than friendship right now.

The philosopher in him merely said _wait_. And wait Gilbert would. After all, he watched her snub the other men of their town without mercy- he had the edge on them easily- as long as he didn't go and do something stupid.

Tonight might be a challenge. He was escorting her to a dance at the Carmody Hall, where they would meet up with Fred and Diana and the other Avonlea people. Gilbert straightened his collar in the mirror of his room, and adjusted the tie that somehow wouldn't sit straight. He shrugged at his reflection, reasoning that a drive over autumn roads would only make it worse anyway. On the way out the door, he accepted the fussing of his mother along with instructions from his father on caring for the horse at the other end. Gilbert grinned to himself wryly, thinking he would be lucky to remember that the horse was even there if Anne looked as she usually did.

* * *

When Gilbert arrived at Green Gables she was ready waiting for him. On the way out of the door she was pulled down to Davy's level, to answer one last question.

"Anne, what do grown-ups do at dances anyway?"

She was looking at him with a sparkle in her eyes, and winked at him. Gilbert took a deep breath.

 _One._

"Davy-boy, we dance."

He looked at her sceptically. "Anne, that's _all_?"

Gilbert chuckled. "That's it. We pretty much just spin in circles for a really long time."

"Well, when I'm grown up I guess I won't bother." Davy said in undisguised disgust, as he was ushered up the stairs by Marilla.

"Will you be very late?" the older woman asked cordially.

Gilbert answered, while Anne was putting her hat on in the hall mirror. "We might be, although we'll aim to leave by midnight at the latest."

"Well, drive safely, and remember to keep warm, the pair of you."

"I'm sure we will, Marilla." Anne said easily. She gave Marilla an affectionate hug, while Gilbert unaccountably had flushed. As the front door closed behind them, Anne looked up at him with a big smile.

"I feel like I am Cinderella." she said with a cheeky grin. "A night at the ball, with stern warnings to leave by midnight." She tucked her hand into his arm, and leaned in conspiratorially. "Just please make sure I leave with both shoes, Gil."

 _Two…._

* * *

The drive into the sunset was beautiful, and Gilbert let out a sigh as they neared their destination. Here was his least favourite part- the part where they would arrive and he had to watch the other men prepare to swarm…. He got down to tie the horse up, and came around to help her down.

 _What if they didn't go in…. what if he took her by the hand, and she looked back at him with those expressive eyes of hers…. She would draw close to him, her eyes questioning- he would place a finger on her lips and pull her gently into the shadows…._

"Well, Gil?" Anne was looking at him with a cheeky smile on her face. "Are we going in now, do you think, or shall we keep the horses company?"

"Sorry, mind just wandered a bit." he said, with a slight chuckle.

She reached up to straighten his tie. "There, now that's better- it was pointing in entirely the wrong direction, Mr Blythe." She took her hands off his collar; did her fingers linger a little that time?

 _Three_ … _oh, who was he kidding. Four and five._

Anne and Gilbert walked into the hall, already filled with people. They moved around looking for the Avonlea people, Gilbert nodding at some people he recognised.

"Didn't think they'd be here." He muttered.

"Who, Gil?"

He tucked her in closer to him, and whispered to her- "I know some of the people here from White Sands."

She looked up at him curiously. "That's alright, isn't it?"

He looked down at her, a slight quizzical look on his face. "They're a little- rowdier than we would be. If you can, stick to dancing with the gentlemen you know, alright? Trust me on this?" he asked seriously.

Anne looked at him in surprise. "If you think it necessary, Gilbert."

"I'll let our fellows know to keep an eye on the other girls as well. They have a bit of a reputation back there." She smiled up at him, and he understood she was thanking him. He squeezed her hand, and they parted to the dressing rooms.

Gilbert was standing with Fred and Moody when Anne came down, with several of the girls from home. He stopped mid-sentence, watching her enter the room seemingly in slow motion, laughing and chatting with Priscilla and Diana. She turned her head, and her hair shone in the light of the lamps; and then turned back to give him a big smile. Her dress was a peacock blue that made her red hair glow with such intensity. He felt Moody kick him in the shin, and realised his jaw had dropped unbecomingly. Moody gave him a knowing smile, and shook his head.

 _Darn it, that was too close,_ _can't act like that now_ ….

He came forward and offered her his arm, and leaned down to whisper "Are best friends allowed to say that the other one looks lovely?" he said with a grin.

Anne narrowed her eyes in thought. "Oh, I think so. So do you, actually." she added easily.

 _Seven…._

"So am I your first dance tonight?"

"Yes, and the fifth. And which young ladies are you searching out tonight, Gil?" she said, as she glanced around the room happily. She wasn't looking at him, and he was free to study her face with a smile on his own. His eyes followed the string of pearl beads on her neck….

 _Her neck…. What would that feel like if he pressed his lips to it… warm, smooth…. Would she press herself into him, open her mouth in a soft gasp…_

"Gilbert Blythe."

He snapped to attention to see who was addressing him. David Benson, one of the young men he had met on his time spent in town. He was looking at Anne in a way Gilbert did not like, and his arm tightened on hers instinctively.

"Won't you introduce me to your charming partner, Blythe?"

"Sure." He replied slowly. "David Benson, this is Anne Shirley; Anne, David is from White Sands."

He looked at her intently, and saw her slight nod.

"It's lovely to meet you." she said politely. "And what is it you do, Mr Benson?"

His mouth curled into an amused smile. "Well, I'm not a school teacher like Mr Blythe here. We can't all waste our time teaching infants to count."

Inside, Gilbert chuckled. _Not_ the way to recommend yourself to Miss Shirley of Avonlea.

"Anne, I believe it's nearly time to begin;" he said, very much wanting to end this little meeting.

"Certainly, Gilbert. Mr Benson." she said, with a nod to the young man.

Gilbert walked her to the floor, and moved to place his hand on her waist. She moved in to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, and suddenly all other thought jammed up in his mind. Her dress was a slightly lower cut than she usually wore, and he was startled to see- _no, keep your eyes up, Blythe- oh, that beautiful white skin of hers, those curves, when did_ _that_ _happen?_ He thought distractedly, his face heating up.

"So, Gilbert; what is the story with young Mr Benson?" she was asking, her face thoughtful.

He shook his head slightly, trying to keep his mind on the conversation at hand. "There are a lot of kids there who are from rich families, who don't need to work. My class is half full of them. They have too much free time on their hands, I think. Not like our farming families."

Anne looked over to the couples dancing that she knew, Fred and Diana, Charlie and Priscilla from Carmody, and even Josie and Moody. Ruby was dancing with her latest conquest, the handsome young teacher from Spencervale. Gilbert saw her smile at them all in genuine fondness.

"I'll take us as we are, I think." she admitted candidly.

He pulled her in closer. "Me too."

 _Eight._

As he moved her around the room, his face carefully blank, the internal conversation continued.

 _Not into the tens yet… might be getting better at this,_ he thought comically _._ He lifted his arm to spin her gently, and returned his hand to her waist. She gave a sigh that seemed to go straight through him, and he smiled down at her.

 _Aaaaand there was nine and ten._

He frowned slightly. What was different about this from the last time they waltzed? She felt slightly different under his fingertips, and he was puzzling it out in his mind, when it hit him with a shock _\- oh,_ _that's_ _a corset, oh heavens…. That's why she- that's why they-_

When the song ended she pulled herself out of his arms, tucking her hand under his arm to walk to the edge. Gilbert took a sorely needed deep breath; and as they stood talking with Diana and Fred, Charlie and Josie were at their elbows ready for dance number _two_. Gilbert's eyes followed Anne to the floor, and internally growled, watching Charlie pompously place his hands on her.

 _He'd better not notice…._

He took Josie's offered hand, and entered the floor, with her thankfully talking too much to pay attention to him. She mentioned the dance, the hair and dresses of the other girls. When Gilbert remained stubbornly silent, after a few minutes she narrowed her eyes, and started in on Anne.

"Personally I think that is too rich a colour on someone who is so pale and sickly. And it shows up her freckles terribly. Don't you think an unblemished skin with some colour in it is better?" she said sweetly, finally getting Gilbert's attention.

"Oh, I don't know. Better that than a blemished personality, don't you think?" he said recklessly.

Josie frowned, not understanding the comment, but shrugged. Gilbert was easily the best looking fellow in the room; hopefully it would raise her status to be seen with him.

Gilbert spent the next few dances with the girls of their own party, including one with Diana, who had been reluctantly released by Fred. He watched Anne dance with him that time with a small smile, seeing her make some effort to get to know him better.

 _That's my girl_.

After the fifth dance with Anne was a short intermission, and Gilbert saw the ladies retire to the dressing room with a sigh of relief. He stepped outside briefly, hoping for some fresh air. While they were dancing their last, Anne had looked up at him so sweetly, and he'd almost- he sighed. At least, he'd only _almost._ Only almost was alright. He straightened up from the balustrade, thinking he could hear her voice.

"Well, that's very kind, however-"

"Come now, Anne, surely Blythe won't mind if I take you for a few dances." he heard a smooth voice coming from inside. He walked through the doors to see David standing near and talking to Anne. She looked over at him, her eyes pleading slightly. Gilbert came over, and took her hand.

"Actually, he would. Would you care to walk back in, Miss Shirley?" he asked lightly, drawing her away.

"Thank you Gilbert, that would be nice." Without looking back, Gilbert knew they were being watched curiously.

"Can I not leave you alone for a minute without you getting into trouble?" he teased.

Anne rolled her eyes. "Well, you could hardly follow us into the dressing rooms. He was waiting as soon as we came down."

She turned to him when they were in the hall once more.

"Thank you. I was just about to tell him that I was engaged for the rest of the night, just to be rid of him. He was very presumptuous."

Gilbert frowned. "It's pretty normal for them, I'm afraid. Another dance with me?"

Anne looked at him, her eyes twinkling. "Certainly. And what of you, Gil? How do you behave when you are in White Sands? Are there women falling all over themselves for you?"

He took her in his arms again, as the music began, and looked around at the room. Pretty girls all over the place; but there was an _Anne_. He grinned at her.

"Nope. I behave like the gentleman my mother raised me to be. There's no one I'm interested in. Plus, I have to get home on the weekends, don't I? No time for a social life over there as well."

Anne laughed. "Well, we'd miss you if you stayed there."

"We?" he teased, tightening his grip on her hand.

"Alright, _I'd_ miss you." she said, rolling her eyes. "Although I'm sure Josie would too." she added placidly.

Gilbert grimaced. "Why do you think I'm planning on going to college for four years?" he asked wryly, making Anne chuckle. As she turned under his arm, he watched the brilliant blue of her skirt swirl past his legs, and sighed again as she pulled in close to him.

 _Was he up to fourteen or fifteen now?_

* * *

True to his promise, at ten minutes to midnight he was helping Anne on with her coat, and Fred and Diana were leaving just ahead of them. Gilbert helped her into the buggy, and the two of them drove the half hour long trip home in quiet contentment. As he pulled the horse into the outskirts of Avonlea, his mind wandered. If he could- if she would let him-

 _He would lift her down from the buggy, close to his body. She would slide down to the ground, her big eyes green with intensity, and his hands gripping her waist. She would touch down to earth, and put her hand on his hair, and pull his face down to meet hers. He would hold her against him and-_

With a slightly confused blink, he realised they had reached her home, and Anne had begun to climb down by herself carefully. Gilbert, cursing himself for getting so distracted, ran to assist her. She jumped down, and held her belongings in front of her as they said goodbye. All of the _almost_ kisses seemed to hover between them, and it was painfully that Gilbert pulled himself away from her with a slight smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He said, and turned away. He stopped when she said his name. When he turned to face her she placed a hand on his arm, and rose up to kiss him on the cheek. His face was stunned, as she spoke to him shyly.

"Thank you for tonight, Gil. I know you were looking out for me back there; you were looking out for all of us. I really appreciate it." She released him, and walked up the stairs and into the house.

Gilbert stood next to the buggy for some minutes, a slow smile stretching across his face. He climbed back in, and the grin was still in place when he was in bed some time later. It had been a good night. He had well and truly lost count, but he thought it was a game he could grow tired of. After all, what kind of idiot kept count of only _almost_ kisses? As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of her lovely face in the moonlight, and a shudder went through him. He gritted his teeth in determination.

One day it would be real, and the count would start again.


	12. Chapter 12, One of the Family

**_I should apologise for the length of this update, however I won't- I simply couldn't get it any shorter. Just pretend it's two updates in one. I have always wanted to land our favourite couple together in a storm (I think we all do ;) ) and I started to think about what a crazy household it would create. Little time for romance, I would imagine! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review, it really helps me to know if a story works or not! Really hoping this one does 😬😄 Cate._**

* * *

 _One of the Family_

It was a rainy, windy Friday night. Anne looked out on the darkening sky, with a frown. Gilbert was due at Green Gables to go over some classwork with her, however with the speed that the storm was arriving she doubted he would come that evening. She turned from the window reluctantly, suddenly feeling rather flat.

"Aaaaaaaanne…" came Davy's whingeing voice, and she sighed in exasperation.

"Yes, Davy?"

"Marilla's making me have a bath, but there's a storm coming." Davy said, coming to slump across the table from her. "Can't you make her leave it till the morning?"

"Davy-boy, no one makes Marilla do anything." Anne said drily. "It's unlikely to be a bad one; the storm season is almost over for us."

"That's not what Mr Harrison says." He whined. " _He_ says it always winds up with a big one."

Anne looked at him, with a twinkle in her eye. "Mr Harrison isn't from here, so how would he know?"

Marilla called him upstairs, and Davy stomped upstairs muttering viciously. Anne chuckled. Seven year old Davy and Dora had certainly brought Green Gables to life again. They had been with them now for almost a year, and Anne thought with humour of the quiet life she and Marilla had previously led at Green Gables.

Just then, a knock came at the door. Anne got up to answer it, wondering who would be out on an evening like this. She was greeted by a cold gust of air as the visitor was pushed in with the wind, and Anne closed the door, startled at the ferocious bluster. Mr Harrison must be correct after all. It was with a shock that she turned to face Rachel Lynde.

"Mrs Lynde!" Anne gasped.

She shook off her large hat, and strode to the fireplace.

"I came to talk to Marilla about the upcoming ladies Aid meeting at Green Gables, of course. I hardly regard a little weather like this." Anne's eye was drawn to the window, where the black swirling clouds were drawing in, and didn't bother to argue.

"I'll call Marilla-" she got no further than that, when a loud crack of thunder shook the house, and a decided shriek split the air.

"Gracious heavens." Rachel exclaimed. "What was that?"

"That must be Davy, he's not fond of storms." Anne said in apology and ran upstairs; only to have him hurl himself, wet and shaking at her legs.

Rachael followed Anne up, and then uttered a severe- "Well, _really_."

Marilla met them on the landing, her mouth twitching. "Rachel, this _is_ an unexpected pleasure." she said dryly.

Anne meanwhile attempted to detach Davy, covering him with the towel Marilla that passed her.

"Davy, everything is alright now." she said, soothing him. At this another rumble sounded, and Anne tried not to laugh as the boy buried himself deeper in her voluminous skirts. " _Davy_ , Marilla has your clothes in your room; you _really_ need to cover yourself."

"Not going in there." he said, his voice muffled, and Anne tried to walk the pair of them into his bedroom, leaving Marilla to greet their guest properly. When she got into the west gable room, Anne pointed Davy to the clothes Marilla had laid out, only to find a cowering Dora hiding behind Davy's door.

"Dora, sweetheart, what's the matter?" Anne said, concerned. Dora, normally so calm was shaking, and Anne detached her brother to go to the girl.

"Dora, it's just a storm. You know we have them from time to time, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"But Davy _screamed_." she said, her lips white.

"Oh sweetie, I know. He was just afraid a little bit. I'm sure he didn't mean to frighten you." Anne said compassionately, putting an arm around her stiff shoulders. When the next bolt of thunder sounded, Davy hollered again, and Dora began to cry. Anne felt an unholy bubble of laughter creeping up on her, not knowing who to comfort first. She shook herself, and put on her best teacher voice.

"David Keith, get yourself dressed this instant, and _stop_ that squealing. You are scaring your sister. Dora, as soon as Davy is dressed, we will all go downstairs, and have our supper. Do we all understand?" she said, over both children.

Ten minutes later, Anne came downstairs with a twin on each side, both dressed and somewhat calmer. She settled them at the table, and was surprised to hear a commotion at the front door again- another visitor being ushered in. Marilla had taken his coat, and he looked sheepishly towards Anne.

"Gilbert Blythe, what on earth-?" Rachael said, stopping short.

"I think we all want to know that, Gilbert." Marilla said, with a wry smile, earning a charming grin back.

"Anne and I have schoolwork to finish-" he started, and was interrupted by Mrs Lynde.

"You and Anne here are completely irresponsible." she said severely. "How you can waste your time on a degree you have little hope of completing is beyond me. And fancy you scampering around in all of this weather." Gilbert looked at Anne, who rolled her eyes behind her broad back, and he chuckled.

Anne brought him a towel to dry himself off. "Gil, this weather really isn't fit for anyone to be out in. I'm surprised your parents allowed you to come."

"Wait, didn't you hear?" he said, grinning wickedly. "I'm a grown up. Now, to people who _aren't_ over eighteen-" he teased.

"Oh, be quiet." Anne said, with a chuckle.

"There was actually a good reason I came." He opened his satchel, and pulled a sheaf of papers out of his bag, and several books, making Anne's eyes open wide. "We have to be finished this module by Monday, but you left all the notes and _all_ your books at my house last weekend. You wouldn't be able to finish without them. I told my parents that, and Dad knew I'd make it here okay. I'm sure it will die down soon."

An hour later, the household had calmed. Davy and Dora, soothed by the extra treats Marilla had brought out for their guests were settled in front of the fire playing a game. Rachel and Marilla sat in the parlour, now warm and bright with the fire, Anne and Gilbert at the kitchen table to work.

The wind began to pick up again, and gradually the adults began to pay attention with some concern. Rain had been falling steadily the whole time, and Marilla came out to hustle the twins up to bed.

"Anne, Rachel will be spending the night. There is no one at home for her right now, as Thomas is away visiting their daughter Eliza. The spare room is made up, so that is no issue."

Gilbert awkwardly stood up. "Perhaps I'd better be going now, Anne."

"Gilbert, you can't." Anne protested, looking outside.

"Certainly not. Your parents know you'll be here with us." Marilla said calmly. "Martin went home to see his parents, you can use his room for the night."

"It's only a little rain-" he said awkwardly. At that point a crash came from outside the building, jarring them all. "Er- and maybe debris."

"Nonsense." she said, amused. "With the way you two children scamper about the countryside at all hours, your mother and I discussed a plan for bad weather some time ago. She is just as prepared to look after Anne overnight if need be."

Anne and Gilbert looked at each other, both sets of cheeks flushing. Anne was the first to recover.

"So it seems our bad habits are well known," she said, in a comical voice. "We have a bad weather protocol in place."

Gilbert chuckled. "It's just as well. We got hailed on last week."

"Oh, it was only a little bit." she said, with a grin. "Stop complaining."

Rachel came bustling out of the parlour, having overheard the conversation. "Well, I must say, I think that running over the countryside for pleasure is extremely unwise, Gilbert. What would the White Sands school board say if they knew you were spending the night?" she intoned imperiously.

"I imagine they would say nothing, Rachel." Marilla said tartly. "It seems unlikely that the weather will let up anytime soon. And I fail to see the difference in _you_ staying the night; you are as unexpected- and yet as _welcome_ \- a guest." She finished with a slight smile at Gilbert, who relaxed. "Gilbert, I have some pyjamas of Matthews in the attic, I'll bring them down when the twins are asleep. Rachel, would you care to get settled for the night?"

Anne and Gilbert were left alone, and after glancing at each other uncomfortably for a moment, Anne sat back down at the table pulling her work back in front of her.

"I can't believe I didn't even notice the coursework was gone. I am indebted to you, Gil." she said with a sigh, and then grinned. "Can you believe Marilla and your mother talked about this?"

"We should have known they would compare notes. After all, we do spend a lot of time at each other's houses, don't we?" he said reasonably.

"Something that will pay off when we finally complete our BA, I should think." Anne said with a yawn.

Gilbert looked at her, concerned. "We don't have to keep working, Anne. You can just show me to the room for the night."

Anne sighed, and put down her pen. "I'm sorry Gil; I had an early start- although I assume yours was much like mine. I couldn't get the fire lit in the classroom this morning, and it put the whole day behind."

Gilbert laughed. "Well, today _I_ got asked where babies came from." he said in a droll voice.

Anne sat up. "Oh, and what did you say?" she said, amused.

"I _mistakenly_ said it would be better to ask their parents. And then I had a parent ask me why their child was under the impression that _I_ needed it explained."

Anne was still laughing when she rose from the table. "I'm glad it was the future doctor who had to deal with that question."

Together they cleared away their books, and Anne led him down the little hallway to Martin's bedroom. Marilla had placed clean sheets on the bed, as well as the pyjamas. Feeling slightly awkward, Anne moved into the room, and began to strip the bed.

"I can do that, if you like." Gilbert said, offhandedly.

"Are you sure?" she said, dubiously.

"Hey, I've been making my own bed for years." he said with a grin. "Mother insisted I learn when I was ten."

Anne chuckled, and stepped from the room. "I'll- I'll see you in the morning then."

Gilbert got himself dressed quickly, and had the bed ready in a few minutes. He jumped into the covers, trying to avoid thinking about being in Anne's home. He sighed, and drifted off to sleep, thinking with a grin that the other boys would _kill_ to be in his shoes right now.

* * *

Gilbert came out of his room early the next morning, nervously checking himself for tidiness. He stopped abruptly at the sight of Anne, seemingly asleep at the kitchen table. He saw that she was dressed, however he couldn't keep himself from staring at her long hair, not yet pulled back for the day. The kettle was just beginning to boil, and he moved to take it off the plate before it could wake her. The movement was enough to draw her attention though, and she sat up groggily.

Gilbert couldn't help laughing at her dishevelled state. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

She said something inaudible, and he crouched down beside her to listen. "Anne?"

"There were three in my bed." she mumbled. "Dora couldn't sleep, so Marilla put her in with Davy; then the thunder started again and they ran in to _my_ bed." She put her head down on the table again. "I haven't shared a bed for _years_. I'd forgotten what it was like." He couldn't stop his grin as he got up to try and find the teapot.

"I'm sorry Anne, but I have _no_ idea where the tea is." He said, after a minute. She chuckled, and rose from the table to get it for him.

"Well, you'd better learn." she said with a yawn. "You're practically a part of the furniture now."

He looked outside where rain was still falling heavily. "Probably a good thing. The lane will be underwater by now." He joked.

At that moment thuds came from overhead, and Gilbert watched a slight shudder cross her face.

"Davy, slow _down_ -" she called out, exhausted.

Gilbert heard a series of bumps making their way down the staircase, and eventually Davy appeared in the doorway rubbing his elbow, with a disgruntled Dora. "I only fell down the first few steps- Dora broke my fall." he added cheerfully.

After breakfast, Marilla took charge of the house again. She sent Anne upstairs to finish readying for the day, and instructed the twins to make their beds. She put Rachel in the rocker by the fire with some mending and sent Gilbert into the parlour with his books. He could feel Mrs Lynde's eye on him as he left the room, and wondered what she was looking so fierce about.

When Anne appeared again her hair was neatly coiled. Gilbert smiled, remembering the riotous red cascade he had woken up to. A happy sigh that had nothing to do with the work before him left him, and he looked up at her brightly.

"We have been banished." Anne said with a chuckle. "Marilla said we have time on our hands, so we may as well finish our work this morning. Are you ready?"

The two of them settled down with their Latin texts, and soon the room only heard the sound of scratching pens.

" _Inter arma enim silent leges_." Anne read out thoughtfully, after a time.

 _"_ _In time of war, the law falls silent."_ Gilbert quoted.

"Do you think that it's true?" she asked him, her head resting on the back of the settee.

He looked back at her thoughtfully and answered her. "Well, I suppose I do."

"But how is that moral?" she asked. "Surely laws are as applicable, and even more necessary when there is conflict."

Gilbert shrugged. "How do you weigh right from wrong? It's wrong to lie, wrong to steal or murder, And yet in times of war, these things may become necessary for survival." Anne frowned, making him chuckle. "I know it's not an opinion you necessarily want to hear."

"Well, _ideally_ -"

"Yes, you are the idealist." he said, amused.

"Pragmatist." she retorted.

"You know the world needs _both_ , Miss Shirley."

"Maybe so, but give me my ideals any day." she said with her nose in the air, and then stopped abruptly. "Gilbert, is that wind picking up again?" At this moment, Davy sprang out from behind the lounge with a roar, startling her into dropping four months' worth of notes on the floor.

"DAVY KEITH!" Anne said enraged. "Do not sneak up on people like that!" Gilbert was too busy laughing to help, and Anne shot him a glare.

"I didn't sneak, Anne, you just didn't hear me. Marilla said to tell you she's bringing in some tea for you and Gilbert soon, and told Dora and I to come in here to wait when Mrs. Lynde said she had a headache in _two_ places."

Anne sighed. "Very well then, please wait quietly, Mr. Blythe and I have a lot of work to do."

Davy rolled his eyes. "Call him _Gilbert_ , that's what you normally do. Although I _did_ once hear you once call him-" he stopped cold when he saw Anne's furious glance. Gilbert choked back another laugh, wondering what on earth she had said. Thinking it the best policy to feign ignorance, he handed her the last sheet of paper and turned back to his own book.

Not a minute later, he stopped reading, unnerved. He lifted his head to see Davy leaning over the arm of his chair, staring at him only inches from his face.

"Can I help you?" Gilbert queried, distinctly unsettled.

"Did you forget to shave?" the boy asked, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Anne choke slightly.

"I- I er-"

"Cause if you're trying to grow a beard it's not going so well. Milty says it's hit or miss, some men just can't do it-"

Gilbert's face was a dull red by this point. "Look, I had to spend the night here because of the storm, so I _couldn't_ shave." he replied, discomforted.

"Davy, I'm sure Mr. Blythe would rather not discuss this." Anne said, in an attempt to silence the boy.

"But I just want to know, and it's not like you or Marilla can tell me how to do it so it grows properly when I'm big-" Davy grumbled. "For all the time _you_ spend in your room getting ready when someone like him is coming over-"

Gilbert clapped a hand over his mouth quickly. "Look, when you get to the point of shaving I'll tell you all about it, alright?" he said, trying to keep his voice down. "Till then, we _don't_ discuss what ladies do to get ready. EVER." He shot a twinkling look over to Anne, who had hidden her face in a cushion.

Davy sighed and slid off the chair. "I'll tell Marilla you're ready." He ran out, and Dora trailed after him primly.

Gilbert crept over to the lounge Anne was sitting on, and sat on the ground in front of it.

"It's alright, he's gone." He said, with a chuckle.

Anne pulled the cushion away, wiping tears of laughter from her face. "It's the sheer un-predictableness that gets me." she said, and sighed. "Who will he go for next, you or I?" She sat up, her legs coming to rest beside him gently. "And yet I remember what it was like to be his age too."

"So do I." he said, with a grin. "When I was five I dragged a corset out of my mother's closet and brought it to the dinner table. In front of the minister."

Her eyes widened. "Gilbert _Blythe_!" she said, horrified.

"Come on, you _know_ I wasn't always a saint. I didn't get sweets for a week." he said with a chuckle.

* * *

That afternoon, as the wind howled, and the inhabitants on Green Gables settled down to quieter pursuits, Gilbert looked up from a nearly completed essay to find Anne asleep on the settee. He could just reach her from where he sat, and brushed a curl off her cheek lightly.

The last eighteen hours had been so dreamlike. She seemed as comfortable with him as anyone in the house, and it was delightful to have uninterrupted time with her. Well- _somewhat_ uninterrupted. He chuckled slightly. Marilla had to keep Rachel from interrupting them on an hourly basis, who was full of ideas for how the two of them could be better occupied- separately, of course; and Davy had left them alone for the last hour only under protest.

A few minutes later, Marilla popped her head in and smiled at the sight of her girl, with Gilbert guarding her as she slept. He stood up slowly and made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"She said she didn't sleep well last night." he explained quietly.

"That's all right. She could use it." she said with a sigh. Gilbert grinned at Marilla, thinking of all the times he had watched her redirect Anne that day, chuckling at her ability to become distracted. Was she always like this? Looking at her guardian's amused smile each time, he assumed so. Seeing Anne in her home gave him new insights to her personality, and Gilbert felt himself even more captivated.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Cuthbert?" He asked respectfully.

Marilla gave a little smile. _So like John_ , she thought.

"I need to check on the animals, if you wouldn't mind." The older woman said, throwing a shawl on. "If you could look in on the barn while I check the hen house."

Outside, the rain had slowed down slightly, and Gilbert found the animals safe and warm inside. He threw some extra hay in the pen, and closed the door behind him. As he turned, he looked at the mass of cloud building behind the house, and made for the veranda. Marilla had just made it back to the house, and they went inside quickly.

"I'm afraid you and Rachael are stuck here for the time being, Gilbert." she said, shaking her shawl off. "I doubt this is finished."

"I know, I saw more clouds coming over. Is there anything to do to before it hits?" he asked, practically.

Marilla sighed. "We closed the shutters yesterday, so I think we are as prepared as we can be. All we can do is wait."

* * *

It was dinnertime when the storm finally struck again. Marilla and Anne had prepared a simple meal for everyone, and they ate in the kitchen with one eye on the windows. Davy had lost much of his bravado in the howling wind, and Dora sat wide eyed and silent. After the meal (and before she could be called on to assist) Rachel had taken herself to bed with another headache, leaving Marilla to clean up, and Anne with the twins.

"Davy, it's nearly time for bed, dear." Anne said with a tentative smile. "Don't you think a nice sleep would make you calm down a little?"

She proceeded to take them upstairs, using her best firm and loving voice, however it had little effect on a sceptical Davy. Gilbert had settled near the fire with one of Anne's books when she came marching back down the stairs with a child still on each side.

"Apparently the windows are rattling too much." she said with a dry voice. "I thought a warm milk drink might make everyone settle down. Would you like one, Gilbert?"

He smiled at her. "It sounds nice, thank you."

It wasn't until the twins had their cups in their hands, that the first lightning strike hit the nearby forest. Davy flew out of his seat and into Anne's lap, his mug flew onto the stone fireplace and smashed, and a cowering Dora dove under the table. As the thunder cracked and rumbled, Anne tried to extricate herself from Davy's grip to reach poor Dora, however it was Gilbert who rescued her from under the table gently. Davy began to cry at the top of his lungs, and as Dora began to sob, Gilbert looked across at Anne, panicked.

"Everyone, we are alright." Anne said, shooting Gilbert with a teasing glance. "Everything is going to be _just_ -" a large crash shook the house at this point, completely unhinging both children. Marilla came running down the stairs wide eyed to find a hysterical twin on each lap, and Gilbert looking very uncomfortable indeed.

"What do I do?" he asked, flabbergasted. Sobbing girls weren't _anything_ he was used to. Anne chuckled, trying unsuccessfully to pry Davy's death grip from her neck.

"Just do what you would do with me." she said, amused. "You seem to handle me just fine. Now Davy, I need you to relax, it's only thunder." A muffled voice came from her shoulder.

"I only got scared cause it s'prised me."

Gilbert laughed. "It's the nature of thunder to do that."

Eventually Gilbert sat Dora down beside him, and read to her until she calmed. Anne smiled at the young girl, recognising the look of adoration on her small face. Gilbert was gentle and kind with her, and she could see why the little girl responded to him so well. When an hour had gone by and the twins were both beginning to fall asleep, Marilla suggested they should be carried through to the parlour to sleep for the night.

Anne covered them both with blankets before the adults retired to the kitchen, where Marilla brewed some tea. She excused herself an hour later for bed, and Gilbert found himself watching Anne with a small smile on his face, who was sitting on Marilla's rocking chair.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked him lazily.

"I never realised what a crazy household you live in, Anne." he said, with a gentle chuckle, making her laugh as well. "You're all so different, and yet somehow you are one family. It's noisy, and chaotic and bursting at the seams-"

"Well, Mrs. Lynde and you are quite temporary, remember." Anne said with a grin.

"And it's fun." He sobered, looking into the kitchen hearth for a time. "It's what I want one day."

"You wish for chaotic?" Anne asked, surprised.

"I want- _full_. People everywhere, laughing, and just being together."

Anne drew her feet up onto the chair, and rested her cheek on folded arms. She looked at him in the flickering firelight. "I'm sure you'll get that, Gil, if it's really what you want." She smiled, idly rocking on the chair. "We are a funny family, I suppose. None of us belong to each other, except for the twins, of course. The beautiful thing is that families aren't just born, they can be made. It's what gives people like me hope."

"I don't know," Gilbert said, studying her face. "I think _you're_ the one that made that happen, Anne."

She smiled at him gratefully, the warmth and crackle of the fire seeming to converse between them. Gradually they were both lulled by the sound of the rain into a restful silence.

A short while later Anne woke up to hear a distant rumble of thunder, and thought sleepily that the storm must finally be dying down. She lifted her head from the rocking chair, to see Gilbert snoring on the kitchen settee. Slowly she tiptoed over and knelt down beside him. She grinned, knowing that she needed to wake him, but something stayed her hand. He hadn't complained at any of the chores Rachel had delighted in ordering him to do, he'd helped Marilla care for the livestock in the rain. He'd worked with her on the last of their assignments and taken time to show Davy some new games. He had shown endless patience with the twins, and the picture of him reading the storybook to Dora would stay with her for a long time.

Anne sighed. It was so _Gilbert_ , to make himself one of the family for the last day and a half. She hesitantly placed one hand on his arm to wake him, when he murmured a little without opening his eyes and took her hand in his own. Anne sat in shock for a few seconds until she saw him relax again in his sleep, his hand still holding hers tightly. She let out the breath she had been holding. She would wake him soon, but for now- she could let him sleep. And when Marilla came down some time later she found Anne sitting there still, one hand in Gilbert's and eyes staring thoughtfully into the fire.

* * *

The next morning, Anne walked Gilbert out to the gate. The two of them were unusually silent, looking at the debris on the lawns, and great branches torn from the trees in the night.

"Gil, thank you for bringing the books to me, and for all your help this weekend. It made bad weather pretty fun, actually." she said with a sheepish grin. "Will your mother have been worried, do you think?"

Gilbert chuckled. "Not if the storm protocol is in place. You should come to my place next hurricane. Although there's nowhere _near_ as much going on there." he said, teasing.

"We might get more sleep." she said, without thought, and then suddenly met his eyes, in shock. Seeing her embarrassment, he put his satchel over his shoulder, and stepped back, a grin on his handsome face.

"It's been a great weekend, Anne. I'll see you next Friday."

And she walked back into a house that suddenly seemed empty, and thought with a sigh that Friday was a long time away indeed.

Gilbert arrived home shortly afterwards to a grateful and fussing mother, who declared she had known he would be safe all along. His father said little, but had a twinkle in his eye that made Gilbert grin a little foolishly for a moment. He took himself off to his room in due course, and lay on his bed with a sigh. He smiled up at his ceiling at the memories he had collected.

As he relaxed and began to fall asleep, a moment that he thought he had dreamed flooded his mind. The gentle pressure of Anne's fingers in his, her comforting presence close by him. And inexplicably, laughably impossible in the night: her lips pressed against his cheek, that burnt into him while he lay sleeping.


	13. Chapter 13, Dreams Realised

**This update coming to you from my holidays... So if the editing is less exact, my apologies: the Internet is shocking here! For this idea I had, I wanted to show how the decision to go to college affected the other- and I wondered how that would play out. I have also used the phrase 'friend zone' completely anachronistically, however I couldn't come up with an 1883 alternative! Please forgive the licence, had that term existed back then, you KNOW Gil would have used it...**

* * *

Gilbert Blythe sat in the kitchen of his house on a Friday evening marking assignments, pausing briefly to chuckle at a child's definition of 'describing their happiest day.' Apparently the time their little brother fell off a horse counted. His marking for the weekend almost completed, he sat back and rubbed his eyes.

The weekend would be far more interesting than the last, already. Anne had gone to stay with Priscilla for two days and he hadn't glimpsed her at all! Of course he had seen Charlie and Moody, got some fishing in and hiked some- however _nothing_ compared to time with her. Even at nearly twenty, he had an uneasy feeling nothing ever would compare. She needed it, he told himself sternly. Anne was tired, and she deserved the break. It made little difference to his mood however, how had he lasted 11 days without her?

He stood up from his chair, and walked to the window. Darkness was beginning to fall, and he looked out on a cool spring evening. His father had been in the fields for most of the day, and Gilbert saw him only now coming in through the gate.

"Son, didn't see you arrive." John Blythe said, giving Gilbert a slap on his back.

"Got in a few hours ago." He replied with a grin.

"Horse put away properly?"

"Course, dad."

"Did you see you see your mother yet?"

"She's working on the washing I brought home. Dad, I tried to stop her-" Gilbert said, holding up his hands in protest.

John laughed. "I know. But she doesn't get to fuss over you through the week."

His father had by now washed his hands, and was sorting through the post.

"Two for you, Gilbert, both from Redmond."

At this, Gilbert's face went white, and he tried hard to keep his face cool as he took them, one letter from the admissions office. "Probably an assignment I handed in." He said indifferently.

John, more astute than his son gave him credit for, merely nodded. "Best go read it then." He watched Gilbert hurry to his room, and sighed. Wouldn't be long now.

Gilbert sat in his room with the letter in his hand, staring out his window into the darkness. He hadn't meant to send the letter, hadn't thought it worth his time. And he'd gone to see the bank on the way home as a matter of course, not expecting it would change things- and yet it did. His hand shook, holding Redmond's answer in his hand. He could go. After only two years of teaching, he could go. He _had_ to go. But could he leave? Could he just walk away, were his dreams big enough to take him away from her? The turmoil inside was growing stronger, and he did the only thing he could think of, running downstairs, and straight to the front door.

"Gilbert, you aren't going anywhere before tea time, young man-" his mothers voice called crossly.

"I'm sorry mama, I have to go." He called, slamming the door behind him.

Mrs Blythe uttered an exclamation. "And where is he going at this time of night without his dinner?"

John put an arm around her shoulders, and sighed. "If it's what I think it is, he needs to go. And you know exactly where he's heading."

* * *

Anne was busy setting the kitchen table when Gilbert arrived at the door, out of breath and speechless. He leaned on the door, and tried to grin at her surprised face, gasping all the while. Anne gave him am amused smile, passed him a drink of water, and went back to what she was doing.

"You aren't even going to greet me?" He wheezed after a few minutes.

"When you have your breath back, I will."she said cheekily, and he looked at her, his heart sinking. How could he even think about leaving her? Tending to the twins, staying for love, but longing to spread her own wings. She _deserved_ this.

There was no one else in the room, and he came close to her, and grabbed her hand. Unseen by him, Marilla came in with some fresh dish towels.

"Can you come with me?" He asked her, urgently. "I need to talk to you."

Anne studied him, looking in surprise at their joined hands. While as good friends as ever, physically they had begun to be more restrained- a natural product of growing up, she assumed. At least that's what she told herself, not admitting to missing the closeness she had at one time allowed. Gilbert had obviously agreed, not appearing to notice. She looked at him now and her eyes widened.

"Go, Anne. I'll finish up here." Marilla said, looking at the two of them curiously. "When you're done you can both eat here afterwards."

Gilbert didn't waste any time, and pulling her outside into the night, walked with her down to Dryad's Bubble. He sat them down beside the spring on the cool grass, and it was then that she discovered he still had hold of her hand. She looked at him curiously. Under a waning moon, she found it hard to make out his face completely, however the unease in him was obvious. Now they were here, he was having trouble coming to the point.

"What is it, Gil? Is anything wrong?"

Gilbert looked across at her, his thumb unconsciously stroking her fingers. "It's not wrong." He said, swallowing hard. "But I- I don't know how to tell you this."

Anne took her hand back, and leaned in with a twinkle in one eye.

"Did you fall in love, Gil?" she asked, solemnly. "Has some young lady stolen your heart- perhaps a young lass with the last time of Pye?"

She laughed at the look of scorn on his face. "No? Have you robbed a bank? Killed someone's horse? Or did you-"

At this Gilbert leaned over to her, and pulled her close, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Anne, I know this will be hard for you, but right now I need you to stop talking." He said, teasing her lightly. He pulled his hand away, and she gave him a mock glare. He kept his arm in place around her, and took a deep breath.

"Anne, I'm going to college."

The air around the two of them at once seemed too thin, and Anne found herself looking up at him, her mind whirling. "You're going? Now?"

He gulped, trying to smile. "September."

He looked down at Anne, who was shaking slightly. She looked up at him, and he _knew_ what it meant. His heart broke, watching her try and keep tears back.

"I'm so happy for you, Gil." she whispered. In the faint light he saw her try to smile, and he pulled her into his arms.

"Anne, I'm sorry." he said, his voice desperate. "It's wrong to go without you, but I _have_ to go now. I need to- it will be long enough as it is, if I don't get started it will be forever till I can-" his voice failed him, and Anne looked at him, suddenly fierce.

"Don't you _dare_ apologise for this, Gilbert Blythe. Of course you have to go. Of course it's the right time for you, and don't you dare try to justify it. I know what this means to you, I know how hard you worked for this." She broke off then, and he heard the tears in her voice.

Gilbert wiped a tear of his own away, and pulled his arm around her tightly. He felt her relax, and she put her head on his shoulder. He had to somehow put words to the feelings swirling around in him, to tell her he understood how she felt.

"I want you to know that this is still our dream." he said desperately. "And I wouldn't be going without you- I'm doing this for- for both of us. Anne, I'm so sorry. You know I'd pull my arm off before I'd willingly hurt you."

She stood up, her emotions beginning to break, wanting to get some distance between them, to try and sort through the chaos inside.

Gilbert got to his feet too, his own heart in tatters; terrified this would drive a wedge between himself and the woman he loved. He had already wrestled with himself over this. He had to go, staying wasn't an option. It was a gamble- to leave her, to risk someone stepping in to his place with her. That she could be won by some stranger while he was working at his dream, a dream that could only be created thinking of _her_.

"Anne-" Gilbert began, and then was speechless, when she turned and threw her arms around him tightly. He held her, looking over her shoulder into the darkness with shock.

"Gil, it's alright. I understand, you have to go." she whispered.

His voice was constricted. "It's wrong to go without you." he said brokenly.

"It's not wrong, it's just timing." Anne said, with a shaky laugh. "Of course you have to go; I want you to. And I'll still be supporting you, Gil, you can send me book lists, and I can keep up that way. I'll ask you silly questions in my letters, and you can tell me to read the notes better; and I can talk to you all about subtext, and what is going on underneath the plot of the story. We can still do this."

Gilbert held her tight and closed his eyes. He felt unaccountably vulnerable before her right now- even more than that, he felt an openness in Anne that had become so rare. Her arms were around his neck, he held her close to him, his heart beating double time. He wanted to tell her- he wanted to ask her to wait for him, but was terrified of the time that must pass before he could be able to speak.

"I'll write you every day." he said with a shaky laugh.

"You can't, you goose." she teased. "You'll have assignments to write, fraternities to join, sporting events-" Anne paused, and forced a smile. "Not to mention all the social events taking place. You'll be a sensation, Gil."

"A man from this island? _No_. You never know, Charlie Sloane may be more popular than me over there." Anne stepped away from him, and he let her go reluctantly.

"Can I ask you a favour, Anne?" Gilbert asked hesitantly. "I thought- I mean, I wondered if you could maybe stop and see my mother from time to time? I won't be able to come back often, and I think-"

Anne slipped her arm through his, and began to steer him back towards the house. "Of course I will. After all, she's certainly seen enough of me over the last two years." she sighed. "Marilla said you should stay for dinner, she's expecting you. I assume you missed it at your house?"

Gilbert nodded, looking down at the girl beside him, his heart squeezing. In moments like these it seemed so natural, so easy that he slip his arm around her, call her _darling_. That their relationship could simply slip into the courtship he had dreamed of since he was fourteen. However here he was leaving in a few short months, and maddeningly, still so securely in the _friend zone._

Just before the two of them stepped through the front door to Green Gables though, she looked up at him with her big grey eyes, and smiled at him. "I'm so happy for you, Gil. And I'll come one day, I promise you that." she said softly. He swallowed hard, and followed her back into the house.

* * *

As the weeks went by on his weekends in town, Gilbert was finding it harder and harder to get any time to see Anne. He could almost feel the distance she was putting between them, and she appeared to be busy every moment. When they went on a rare walk, he found himself growing frantic, to make her _look_ at him again. She was as sweet as ever, but Gilbert wondered whether she was putting up a barrier between them because he was leaving. He wanted to crush her into his arms, to tell her it made no difference- that he would love her no matter how hard she pushed him away. The most painful thing was the hurt he would see flicker over her face when she _would_ glance at him; however all the talk would be about him- about what he would learn, what he would do. She was encouraging and so caring, but he almost wanted her to yell at him- to see that flash in her eyes, for her to tell him she was hurting and upset with him for going. He _knew_ her.

* * *

For Anne, the lightning bolt hit her late one afternoon. She had spoken with Marilla, and her whole world had been turned on its head with her pronouncement- that it was finally possible for Anne to go to college. Anne was still bewildered- still so surprised that the bend in the road was so sudden, had come upon her without warning.

When the sun was sinking in the sky on a Friday afternoon, Anne took herself to Hester Gray's garden to wait for the one person who could understand what this meant to her. Diana could not, Anne had long known that only one person could appreciate what she yearned for, he could do that because it was his dream as well.

Anne looked up suddenly, hearing him coming through the narrow path whistling. She stood near the old stone bench, her hand twisting nervously. Exasperated with her ridiculously flighty emotions, she shook her hands and clenched them to keep them steady. Gilbert came up the slight rise, an easy smile on his lips when he saw her.

"Good evening, Miss Shirley. To what do I owe this apparently urgent summons?" he said lightly.

"It's not urgent. Well- that is, it _is_ urgent- but it's not." she fumbled, her cheeks suddenly glowing to her embarrassment.

"You told Mother you needed to meet me as soon as I got home. She said you seemed a little- err, _high strung._ " Gilbert said, with an amused smile.

"Oh!" Anne said, indignant.

"Come on, you must admit this does appear to be one of those times you're struggling to stay on the ground, Anne." he replied kindly.

Anne could fully appreciate the struggle Gilbert must have had, she now found herself struggling to tell him her news. She turned from him, searching for a way to begin her story, when he took her hand in his.

"Best friends, right?" His hazel eyes twinkled at her merrily. Anne sighed.

"Best friends." she echoed, calming.

"Alright then. Spill."

Anne took a deep breath, and with unexpected tears in her eyes, she answered.

"I'm coming with you to Redmond." she said softly.

The response was immediate. "You're coming-" he gasped, and stopped.

"To Redmond. With you."

Gilbert's hand shook, and his eyes seemed to glisten in the dying light. He turned away from her, putting his hands over his face, and Anne stepped in to touch her hand to his arm.

"Gil, what is it? I thought you would be happy-" she said, her voice breaking; but then suddenly he turned back to her with blazing eyes and leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth.

The two of them suddenly stood back in shock, eyes wide. Anne stared at him, bewildered, wondering what on earth had come over him, and Gilbert immediately backtracked.

"Anne, I didn't quite mean to do that;" he said, with a breathless laugh. "I'm just so happy, so happy you're going. I know what this means to you."

Anne began to breathe normally again. "Is that how you tell all your friends when you're happy about something?" she said feebly. "What did you do when Fred told you he was engaged?"

"Alright, not Fred. " he said, grinning through his embarrassment. "But together- we're taking on Redmond _together_!" he nearly shouted, making her laugh.

"Is Redmond ready for the terrible duo of Blythe and Shirley?" Anne teased.

"We'll fight everyone else for all the honours- we'll study together and beat the lot of them-" he said proudly. "We'll show them what a pair of Islanders can do."

Anne sighed, with a smile that made his heart thunder. "And we'll graduate hand in hand, as we always intended to, and work on those dreams we both have." She said, her eyes earnest and hopeful.

Gilbert took her hand again, once more trying to put his heart into words that wouldn't frighten her. "I'm so- so glad, Anne. It was going to kill me to not have you with me." he said, his voice light.

Anne squeezed his hand, and kept her lashes down as she spoke. "It was going to hurt to have you go." she said quietly.

Gilbert looked at her face in the dimness, and decided to say no more. He had time now, time to work hard for his dreams, and time to win her heart- she would be with him all the way. He put his arm around her shoulders, and they began the walk home.

"So what tipped the scales?" he said curiously, and Anne laughed.

"It's a long story. To put it succinctly, Mrs Lynde is moving in when I leave!" she said, making Gilbert break into surprised laughter.

"Davy!" he said, between chuckles. "Oh, poor Davy!"

Anne nodded. "She will take my place; Marilla will have help with the twins, and I am free to follow the bend in the road that has opened up before me."

Gilbert looked down at her, walking in step with him.

"Together?" he asked, unable to keep the warmth from his voice. She nodded.

"Together." Anne said softly.


	14. Chapter 14, A Mother's Touch

**Surprise! This is a little story that has been in my mind for a few months, and was re-awoken by Mrs Blythe's appearance in OMDWY. I'm hoping to add to the Golden Days episodes gradually, so hopefully you will see some more of these soon, in amongst the other updates! Thank you for following, reading and commenting!**

 **Cate.**

* * *

 _A Mother's Touch_

Anne saw her last pupil leave the schoolhouse one windy Friday, and sank back down onto her desk chair, her head aching. She shuddered, hearing the footsteps on the ground again, the heavy door crash against the wall, and Barbara Shaw's seemingly shrill voice.

"Teacher, oh teacher I forgot to get my picture book! Aunt Mary said I must have it back home today." She ran up the little aisles, knocking three chairs over in the process, and making poor Anne feel as if she had an insistent drum beating against her temples. Barbara straightened them up awkwardly, and Anne tried to not flinch with every apology, every scrape of the wooden legs on the uneven floorboards.

"Dear, I can do that for you, there's no need to worry-" Anne pleaded.

Barbara tripped up the aisle, coming to stop against the desk that Anne had been leaning on. She tried to smile at the young girl and seem like her normal self.

"Teacher, you look awfully pale, like the picture of the marble lady in my uncle's book. I think she was someone pretty important because Uncle Henry said she was blessed, or something. Are _you_ blessed?" she asked curiously.

Anne gave a little smile. "I'm a little tired, Barbara, and just need to go home."

"Would you like me to walk _with_ you?" the child asked brightly.

Anne's smile became a little fixed. "No dear, I think it would be best if you ran along now; Millie Andrews is waiting for you, you see."

A high pitched goodbye and another echoing slam of the door, and Anne was alone once more. A headache had come from seemingly nowhere earlier in the afternoon, and she had begun to shiver, although the October weather was still quite warm. It was another few minutes before she could make herself stand, and gather her belongings with shaking hands.

Davy and Dora had been out of school for a few days with a heavy cold the previous week, and Anne reflected with irony how generous Davy was with all things- hugs, kisses, and sharing his diseases. She thought with a sigh of the weekend she had at home alone- Marilla had taken the twins to Spencervale with her for the weekend, leaving Anne to fend for herself. It was just as well, she though thankfully. She only wanted to go to bed as soon as she got home anyway.

On the way home from the schoolhouse, Anne stopped at the post office for Marilla. She spoke to the clerk, whose voice seemed unnaturally loud to her ears, and then stepped out onto the veranda. She reached out a hand to steady herself against the rail, her head suddenly spinning, and gulping in the fresh air. She heard someone coming to stand beside her, however she couldn't quite turn her head to see who it was.

"Why, Anne, dear!" Cora Blythe's cordial voice came, and she looked into the girl's pale face. "What have you done to yourself at school today?"

Anne attempted to smile. "Nothing. I think Davy's cold is all that is the matter. It seems to have just hit me all at once this afternoon."

Cora looked at Anne sceptically, with a curiously Gilbert-like expression in her eyes. "There is a rather horrible influenza going around; if it's come up that quickly it probably isn't a cold." She put her hand to Anne's forehead and clucked her tongue. "Come on dear, let's get you home," she said comfortingly.

Anne let herself get put in the buggy beside Mrs Blythe, feeling completely miserable. Cora drove them through the countryside talking pleasantly, however when she pulled up at the Green Gables yard, she commented on the quiet. Anne climbed down from the buggy, and Cora tied the horse briefly to see the girl inside.

"Dear, is Marilla in? We should let her know you aren't feeling well."

As they walked up the veranda steps, and Anne fumbled with her key and smiled weakly. "Marilla is visiting some distant relatives, she took Davy and Dora along so that they could meet some cousins of theirs." Cora walked her inside the kitchen doors and placed her satchel down on the kitchen floor.

"Anne, you don't mean to tell me that you're home alone?" Cora said, taken aback.

"Oh, I don't mind being alone-" Anne protested, however she was interrupted by the brown haired woman.

"Oh, this won't do at all," she said briskly. "You're coming home with me, dear."

Anne's white face immediately turned a coral pink, and she began to protest. "Mrs Blythe, I'm sure I will be fine, all I really need is to go to bed."

"And what if you take a fall, or find yourself too unwell to call for help?" Cora said, her clear voice logical. "Dear, go and pack a little bag, you can come and stay with us for the weekend."

Anne looked at her, panicking. She couldn't- why, it would be _completely_ inappropriate for her to stay in Gilbert's home! She wasn't that unwell, she would be _fine_ -

It was at this point that she was hit with a wave of nausea, and she steadied herself against the kitchen table until it passed, breathing deeply.

"Anne, dearie, I have a feeling that you have a fairly stubborn streak in you, as evidenced by the well-deserved lump on my son's head," Cora said, amused. "This isn't one of those times for it to be put to use. Go and pack a bag for a day or two, dear. I'm sure Marilla would look after Gilbert or Diana if they found themselves here when they were ill." She pushed the girl in the direction of the stairs gently, and added as an afterthought- "And you might as well give me someone to fuss over, Gilbert won't be home until much later in the weekend. He has a meeting with the White Sands board."

Anne moved on wooden feet up the stairs, and into her little gable room. She pulled a bag onto her bed, and slowly put the things in it that she might need. Mindful that Mrs Blythe was waiting, she rubbed the back of her hand across her clammy forehead. It wouldn't be quite so strange if Gilbert wasn't home. And she could easily come back home in the morning when the worst of the illness had passed. She closed the carpet bag and walked down the stairs on slightly unsteady feet. Cora was waiting in the hall for her, her face kind. She locked the door behind them and put Anne in the buggy to take her home.

* * *

That night, Anne lay in the spare room of the Blythe farm at three in the morning, wide awake and miserable. She lay still, trying to keep her body from shivering. She was piled high with blankets and still felt thoroughly chilled. Her head had eased, however, she thought with longing for her own little bed, and familiar sounds of the wind in the trees behind Green Gables, and the sound of the children's soft breathing coming through her door at night.

As a little tear fell on the lace trimmed pillow slip, she tried to avoid the thoughts that had truly been keeping her awake. She had visited this house so many times by now, that it seemed strange that she had only just entered it for the first time a year ago. A year of work and play, of Gilbert's teasing and easy comradeship. The easy passage the two of them had formed between their houses, where both felt comfortable in the other's home.

 _Not_ the spare room, however, and certainly _not_ in nightclothes.

Anne closed eyes that hurt, trying to send herself back to sleep. Mrs Blythe had ushered her in through the front door, to the astonishment and amusement of Gilbert's father. She had taken her to the spare room, instructing her kindly to don her nightgown and to climb into the waiting bed. Anne had done so dumbly, not having the energy to argue the point anymore. It had been the start of an evening that completely bewildered the girl.

Mrs Blythe was in and out of the room with a cold compress, and bringing cool drinks and hot tea. She had attempted to bring in some chicken soup, however another bout of nausea had hit, and Cora had been there with a bowl and a cool washcloth to mop her face afterwards. Anne had been terribly embarrassed, however Cora had dealt with it calmly and matter-of-fact. She hovered over the bed of her young charge, smoothing the hair back from her face, and checking her temperature against her soft wrist.

Now, in the hours of darkness, Anne tried to contain a shuddering breath. This was so different- so unfamiliar to her. Was this what her own mother would have been like? Would Bertha Shirley have held her hair back without concern, touched her face with cool hands that soothed? Pulled the warm covers up and tucked them around her as if she was eight instead of almost eighteen? Was this how Gilbert had been cared for, his whole life?

Anne raised one hand to wipe more tears from her face. Marilla had cared for Anne through illnesses with a sternness that masked her own worry. She _knew_ that. She saw the caring in the brusque tone, in the way her hand would shake when she pressed her own briefly. However, it wasn't until this night that she saw the tenderness of a mother- and for _her_ , a waif in someone else's home! It was this that brought the tears on a little harder.

The door opened a crack and to her surprise, Cora entered the room in her dressing robe, carrying a low candle.

"I never sleep properly when someone is unwell in the house," she whispered, with a smile. "I'm just checking on you." She put her hand to Anne's forehead again. "You still have a little bit of a temperature, dear. Suppose we take some of these heavy blankets off."

Instinctively Anne shook her head, her eyes pleading; and Cora laughed. "You remind me of Gilbert when he was sick. I used to have to wrestle the blankets off him when he was a boy, even when his temperature was at its highest. He fought like a tiger to keep them on him. How about I take this blue one off you, and I'll leave the others?" She touched the girl's cheek lightly. Anne nodded, and Cora moved the heaviest of the blankets to the little bureau. She came back and smiled at her in sympathy. "Dear, I know you feel miserable right now, however, you should feel better by this time tomorrow. Go to sleep now, and we'll see how you feel in the morning." She smoothed the red hair back from her face, and left the room quietly, closing the door behind her. Anne eventually did so, and she was not awake when Cora came to check on her at sunrise.

* * *

The afternoon sunshine was breaking through the colourful leaves when Gilbert strode up from the barn to greet his father smoking on the porch. He dropped his bag near the front door and sat beside him with a sigh. John Blythe took his pipe out of his mouth briefly.

"All well?"

"Just a routine meeting with the trustees. It was fine." Gilbert said, with a sigh. "Where's ma?"

John looked at him, a small smile on his face. The twenty-year-old beside him was more man than boy now, and there was no way John had missed the way his son looked at Anne Shirley- and he himself never saw her without the surprise that his son fancied Marilla's girl. He worked to repress a little chuckle. The boy had no idea who his mother was caring for at that moment.

"Oh, she just has a visitor staying."

Gilbert groaned. Probably one of his mother's cousins from New Brunswick, gossiping aunts who would tweak his cheek and discuss who he looked like in front of him, complimentary or not. Maybe he should go hide out at Fred's.

"You'll want to stay around; I might need your help sometime later," he said mildly. Gilbert stifled a sigh and nodded. "You'd better take your things up to your room, your mother might need you to get on with some chores."

Gilbert walked inside, seeing his mother bringing a tray out of the spare room. She quickly placed it on the table and ran to give her son a hug.

"Darling, I'm so glad you are home!" she said softly, causing Gilbert to give the closed bedroom door a curious glance. Who would be in bed at this time of day?

"Ma, who's staying here?" he asked, puzzled.

All of a sudden Cora got the same look on her face, as she had when she had to tell his father she had adopted yet another kitten. Gilbert frowned at her, still not understanding.

"I happen to know she needs someone to look after her, that's all. Marilla is away, and she has been terribly sick with no one to care for her-" Cora said defensively.

" _Anne_? She's here? Anne's _here_?" he said, his voice sounding ridiculous loud, even to his ears. He headed unthinkingly for the spare room door, and Cora quickly caught his arm as he reached for the handle.

"Gilbert _Blythe_!" she said crossly. "Come away from there at once! Have you no sense of propriety at all? Anne is supposed to be _resting_."

He pulled up short, his face flushing. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "You just surprised me."

Cora shook her head. "Go and get changed, dear. If she is a little better tonight, you can visit with her a little." She watched the young man nod and drift towards the stairs, rolling her eyes at the dreamy smile on his face.

That evening, Cora checked on Anne and found her still quite unwell. In deference to her son's pleading eyes, she told him she would allow a short visit with his miserable friend.

Gilbert's senses were on high alert as he followed his mother into the dimly lit room, feeling as if he would hit the roof if anyone touched him. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't care- but it was _Anne_! She was staying in his home! Cora watched the besotted look in her son's eye, and she smiled.

"I'll give you twenty minutes, and then we need to let her sleep. Do you understand me, Gilbert John?"

Gilbert nodded, trying to keep the ridiculous grin from forming on his face. Under the mounds of blankets, he could make out Anne's small form, looking up at him with a sheepish smile on her face. He immediately lost his own nerves, in trying to ease her own. He sat down on the little rug beside the bed and looked at her cheekily, her face now on the same level as his.

"What have you done to yourself?" he asked, and she gave him a small smile.

"Oh, just lying around." she joked tiredly. "Your mother kidnapped me when she saw me yesterday. She thinks that I don't look well. Personally, I am feeling _marvellous_." she said wryly, with a little chuckle.

Gilbert laughed. "Well, since you are the colour of the pillowcase, I think Mother might be right."

A spark came into her grey eyes, and she frowned at him crossly. "You should be polite to your sick friends." she grumbled, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Gilbert. You wouldn't have been expecting to find me here. Your mother was quite determined to look after me."

He looked at her, unable to disguise the tender look in his eye. "I'm sorry that you're sick, but it's nice to see you. And you're in good hands. Mother was Uncle Dave's surgery nurse when she met dad."

Anne smiled. "I think she's wonderful. She scolded me for trying to get up and has fed me hundreds of cups of tea over the last few hours. And she's checked on me every hour since she put me to bed yesterday."

She was silent then, some of the thoughts from the previous night coming back to her. His brown curls were so close to her, and she sighed as his hazel eyes looked into her own. "It's what I imagine it would be like to have a mother," she added softly.

Gilbert's eyes stung slightly at her admission, and he swallowed. "You're killing me, you know that, right?" he said lightly. He reached up to take the hand that was dangling limply off the bed. He sat there with her for long minutes in silence. He was still sitting there when his mother came to check on them a short time later, to find Anne had fallen asleep, her hand still in his. Cora gave her son a searching look, and then told him she would come and get him a little later.

* * *

 _Ten years Later_

Cora Blythe woke to the sound of an angry newborn cry in the house, coming from her very first grandson. She dressed quickly, greeting Marilla as they met in the little kitchen to be served breakfast by a beaming Susan. Cora had come only the evening before and was yet to meet the one-week-old young man who had captured the heart of every inhabitant of the House of Dreams. Gilbert had picked her up from the station, proudly boasting of his son's alertness and strength, and Anne's rapid recovery.

When Cora was ushered into the little bedroom, she had a warm hug for her daughter in law, and then sat in the ready chair beside Anne to receive the squirming bundle from Gilbert. James Matthew Blythe kept his eyes tightly closed as he was held by his grandmother for the first time. Gilbert was called downstairs briefly, and after a loving glance at the three in the room, he walked out closing the door behind him.

Anne watched Cora's eyes filling with tears, and smiled. And as was also the custom, she pulled out a handkerchief to have a little cry of her own.

"Dear, is anything the matter?" Cora asked kindly.

"No." she said with a little sob. "I just seem to keep crying all the time. Although I can't imagine _why_." she said, sounding faintly cross with herself.

Cora laughed, and then hushed the startled baby in her arms. "It's normal, dear. It usually goes away within a few weeks." She looked over at Anne, whose red hair was neatly plaited down her back, much the way she used to do when she was younger. She studied the changes that had come to the girl before her. She had grown into a graceful and lovely woman, and she was proud of the girl her son had married. Cora saw a maturity there, the sort of growth that only pain and heartache could bring, and she sighed. Some of that pain was visible now.

"Dear, may I tell you something?" she said softly, her finger tracing the small boy's little hands.

Anne dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief, and nodded, trying to smile.

"Almost thirty years ago I held my baby boy for the first time." she said, smiling down at her grandson. "And you know how much happiness Gilbert brought to us. But, dear, I still had to grieve for my little girl at times, as well."

Anne's lips trembled, knowing exactly what her mother in law was referring to, the thoughts she had tried so hard to banish. "But it seems ungrateful." she whispered.

Cora touched her cheek softly. "It's not, dear. You've done _wonderfully_. Of _course_ you will miss little Joyce right now, and it won't take anything away from the joy of this little man. You have all the joy of motherhood right here with you now."

Anne smiled at the feet kicking furiously under the long gown he wore. His face was scrunching up, and turning a bright red. The indignant cry made Cora laugh.

"Is it breakfast time, perhaps?" she asked.

Anne gave a slightly hysterical chuckle. "Probably. I think he has had at least three breakfasts this morning alone."

Cora stroked her finger against Jem's cheek, laughing at the frantic way he tried to search for his food. She passed him to Anne. "I would guess that is a _yes_."

Anne smiled at her grumpy son and lowered her nightgown to slightly awkwardly attach the baby to her breast to feed. When the two of them were settled, Anne sighed and looked across at the woman beside her.

"Did you ever worry about not being enough?" she asked her softly.

Cora smiled. "Of course, dear."

Anne played with the little fingers on one of his hands and shook her head. "I looked after so many children growing up, but it didn't feel like this- it wasn't so terrifying, but it was also never as wonderful as this." she admitted.

Her mother-in-law laughed. "That sums up motherhood perfectly. You are doing so well already, Anne. You'll be up and about in no time, and running after this young man all day long. In the meantime though, I promised Gilbert I would let you rest soon. I need to go and search out all of the gifts that the people of Avonlea have sent this young man; my trunk is overflowing with them."

She touched Jem's fuzzy golden curls and then smiled as she cupped Anne's cheek in her hand. "Perhaps when he is done you can have a little nap, so as to be nice and fresh for the afternoon's visitors. Marilla and I will be in to check on you in a little while." She bent down to kiss the top of Anne's head, and left the room quietly; leaving Anne with a little smile on her face, her finger clutched tightly in Jem's tiny hand.


	15. Chapter 15, Explorers

**Surprise! This is a little something I've been working on in the background, I needed to go back in time for a fresher perspective on Anne and Gil for a break! I'm loving WTC, but a fresh writer's a better writer, I feel. This is set just weeks after Anne and Gil first shook hands at the gate. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Cate.**

* * *

 ** _Explorers_**

Gilbert Blythe stood on the rocky outcropping of a little-known beach outside of Avonlea, watching Anne Shirley closely. She stood on the peak of the rock they had climbed to get there, her eyes searching the landscape keenly. She had been silent for long minutes, and Gilbert was still trying to ascertain if it was in pleasure or disgust- although for what, he didn't know. Him? The beach? Josie's horrendous apple tarts?

"It's so- _wild_." she said at last.

He frowned. Wild? Was that a good thing?

He watched her in some bemusement scramble down the rocks to the patch of sand below them, her dress whipping around her slim form in the breeze. He looked around himself, in satisfaction. It had been months since he'd had time to come himself, chores at home had kept him relentlessly busy throughout the long, hot summer. The wind was cold coming off the water, and the heat of the day was dissipating under a grey sky. He breathed in with a sigh of relief.

He heard a shout of laughter, and looked down to see her barefoot, and twirling around in the sand. He grinned, swinging himself down the rocks easily.

Right. So pleasure it was.

As he reached her side, he turned to see her bright smile. One hand hitched up her grey dress away from the approaching waves, and she reached the other up to brush her long hair out of her eyes.

"I've never even seen this place before." she said, breathing in the fresh air with a look of- could it be _freedom_? His breath caught slightly. That was what _he_ felt whenever he came here.

"So you like it?" he said, after a moment.

Anne turned to him, her eyes candid. "Certainly. Don't you?"

He shrugged. "Of course. That's why I brought you here. I wouldn't take you somewhere I hated, now, now would I?"

Anne frowned. "I suppose not."

The two of them walked along the little shore in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Her eyes hungrily scanned the horizon, and in a moment, he found himself grinning. Anne turned to him, puzzled. "Was there a joke that I missed?"

Gilbert had hardly known he was doing it, and he foolishly replied "Just _you_."

As she stood upright, her eyes prepared to scorch him, he held up his hands in laughing alarm. "No, that's not what I meant!"

She looked at him, exasperated. "Then just what _did_ you mean?"

He hesitated, trying to figure out how to approach the enigma that was Anne Shirley. She wasn't like the other girls- Diana had only needed a charming smile, Ruby a compliment or two, and even Josie was easy enough to distract. He looked into the eyes that were already showing hints of green in them, and he opted for the truth. Not that that had worked in the past….

"You look at the sky like I do." he said, awkwardly. "Like it's somewhere you want to go."

Immediately disarmed, Anne's red head was on one side and she studied him carefully. More astute than he gave her credit for, Anne looked at the uncomfortable look on his face in some dismay. It didn't happen often, but the tentative barely _weeks_ -old friendship would occasionally hit an awkward patch, and they would both freeze, trying to figure out what to do, how to proceed.

"Oh." she said eventually, bending to pick up a shell from the ground. She gave him a sneaking look, trying to somehow unstick the two of them. "I haven't seen so many sea stars."

"No, they prefer the rock pools east of here." he said easily, taking the shell from her. He took a pencil from his pocket then, and gave the curly opening an experimental poke. As expected, its lone occupant was quick to poke long arms out, causing Anne to jump back in shock.

"Goodness! I had no idea it was occupied!" she said, with a little laugh that brought a goofy smile to Gilbert's face. He quickly schooled it, as she turned to him questioningly.

"Always look for the tenants, Anne." he teased.

Anne raised an eyebrow at him. "And what would you know about tenement housing, Mr Blythe? A son of the land like you?"

"I know _plenty_ about it, actually."

Anne stopped, looking at the boy before her in surprise. "Oh." She kept her glance down then, hoping that he hadn't been offended. "Er- what did you mean about the way I look at the sky?"

Gilbert's eyes swung to her, and he gave a half smile. "Oh. Like you want to explore it."

Anne held his glance thoughtfully, and nodded. "I suppose that's true." she said lightly. Her gaze turned back to the gulls circling out to sea, and gave a little sigh. "I do. I do want to go out there- one day. Who _wouldn't_?"

"Most of the people who live here." Gilbert said with a shrug. He kicked a piece of seaweed aside, his hands in his pockets. "Where- where would you go?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know." She sighed then, and dropped to sit on the flat rock at their feet, her long legs stretching out before her. Gilbert flopped down beside her, briefly stopping to wonder where she had put her shoes and stockings. He tried to keep his thoughts off his face, but couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of her bare toes, with their dainty shell-like pink nails.

 _Come on, eyes up, Blythe…. she'd never stay if she saw you looking._

He looked out at the afternoon clouds on the horizon with a sigh. "I don't know either. But I know I want more than just what's here."

"As much as we love it." she said honestly.

"As much as we love it." He grinned then. "So you want to explore too. Well, you've never been here before. And I've never been here with you."

"No doubt you have with others, though."

Gilbert shook his head. "Nope. I usually just come here to get away." He dug in the sand next to him with his long, brown fingers.

Anne turned her head to look at him curiously. "From what?"

He looked at her in shock, and Anne sighed. She gave him a wistful smile, and began to twist her braid out of the way. "It's- strange, I suppose." she said, with a funny look. "We should know each other quite well, after five years in the same school. But there's really very little I know about you, and I would guess you don't know so much about me, either."

Gilbert's look was still startled, and she rushed to reassure him. "I don't mean that you need to tell me everything, you won't want that. But maybe it won't be so awkward for us if-"

" _You_ think it's awkward?" he said, in disbelief.

Anne pulled back, beginning to apologise, until he cut her off. "Thank _heavens_. I thought you might have been mad at me for something." he said bluntly.

Anne groaned. "Look, I realise you have very little reason to believe this, but I'm not as easily offended as I once was."

He gave her a contagious grin. "So we have to get to know each other better."

Anne looked uncomfortable at that point, and Gilbert's mouth set speculatively. "Ask me anything."

Her head came up in shock then, and he raised his eyebrows. "Ask me whatever you want to know about me, and I'll tell you if I can."

Anne couldn't keep back a grin at that point. "Do you really mean that?"

Gilbert shrugged, with a matching smile. "Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"Oh, so you meant ' _carrots'_ then?" she teased.

He groaned. "Come off it Anne, _bygones_ , remember?"

She gave him a little push on the arm, one that made him chuckle. He took it to mean that she was teasing _him_.

 _Interesting…_

"It's a deal." She looked at his profile, admiring the strong set of his chin. "Alright, Gilbert. What do you come here to escape from?"

He looked pleased, seeing how she had lightened. "Well- it's complicated, I guess." he sighed, looking out towards the horizon, and chose to take a risk. "From the farm that I don't want."

Anne's breath was taken away by his straightforwardness. "Oh." After a moment her curiosity got the better of her. "Does your father know that?" she asked cautiously.

Gilbert turned serious hazel eyes to her, with an artificial smile. "Yeah. He does. But mother, and my Aunt who also happens to live next door-"

"Mrs Fletcher is your _aunt_?" Anne said, interrupting. "I didn't know that."

The dark brown eyebrows went up teasingly. "You never _asked_ me. Yes. She's my dad's sister." Gilbert said flatly. "And they all want a future where I build a house next door and marry one of those nice girls down the road and plough fields for the rest of my life. Ma mentions it every now and then."

Anne looked at him in surprise. "But you are a _teacher_ \- and you want to go to college-"

He folded his arms, giving her a wry look. "I think she's hoping that's for me to save for the house. I know she wants me to be happy, and she will support me in what I choose- but until I actually leave, she'll fight it tooth and nail."

Anne looked at him curiously. She couldn't see him in that life, and was faintly puzzled by the wave of indignation she felt on his behalf. Of _course_ being a farmer wasn't enough for Gilbert Blythe. Couldn't they _see_ that?

"But you did tell your father?" she said, after a minute.

Gilbert ruffled his hand through his hair sheepishly. "Not exactly. I told Charlie while we were at Queens- and then _he_ told-"

"His mother, yes-" Anne interrupted, with a little groan. Bigger misunderstandings had been started in their schoolyard from these words.

"Exactly. She bailed my father up, who dragged me out to the barn to have a 'rational discussion' about it." he said with a grin.

Anne's eyes flew wide, and he saw her go pale. "Were you alright? He didn't- he didn't hit you?" she choked.

Gilbert looked at her in horror. " _No_ , Anne- I swear, my dad would _never_ do that- why on earth would you think-" he broke off, seeing her shiver.

"You said _dragged_." she said, swallowing.

Gilbert put a calming hand on her arm, praying she wouldn't shake it off. " _No_. He didn't want my mother to hear, she gets a little over-emotional at times. So we got out fast, and sat down and talked. _Rationally_. Anne, I promise, my dad is the gentlest man on earth. It's my mother who used to have to discipline me when I was a kid." he said dryly, trying to make her smile.

He watched her visibly try to calm herself.

"Anne-"

"Just forget it. It's alright." she said, making herself smile. "I over-reacted."

There was a long silence between them, and he looked at her, troubled. He'd heard of such things- he'd heard of abusive families. She was far too upset for it to be about _him_. And the gossip had always suggested that she'd had a rough life before she came to Avonlea.

"Do you- want to talk about it?" he said, carefully studying the shoreline. Anne looked at him in shock, still too pale for his liking. "I don't mean that you have to- but is there someone you _can_ talk to about it?"

Anne shook her head. "I just don't. Look, I'm fine, really." Her eyes were clear, and he moved his hand, pretending he couldn't still feel her arm shaking as he did so. He took a deep breath, somehow feeling he had just viewed an abyss in her, one that he had no hope of navigating at this point.

"Well, my dad told me that a man had to make his own path in life, and that he would support me." he said lightly, trying to return then to safer ground. "He suggested I give Ma a bit longer before breaking it to her. So I haven't mentioned it in a few months."

"I thought we were going to study together." Anne said slowly. "Won't she know when she sees us doing that?"

He shrugged. "The problem isn't exactly in her _knowing_ my plans- it's her getting used to it. It's the problem of being the only child. But then you'd know all about that with Marilla."

Anne looked up at him, her features softening. That was exactly how she saw herself. "I do." she said, her voice soft, giving him a smile.

The wind blew up the beach, and he watched her turn her face into it with closed eyes. There were times he still found himself amazed at his luck. How was she actually speaking to him now?

He watched her then give a sigh of exasperation at the way the wind whipped strands of red hair around her face, and almost forgot to close his mouth against the blowing sand and salt spray when she pulled it from the braid completely to redo. She turned into the wind, and as her hands worked, he watched the red curls blowing in the ocean breeze in fascination. _Like a mermaid_ , he thought distractedly.

"What is it?" Anne said suspiciously, turning back to see an unusually speechless Gilbert. He gave himself a shake, and attempted to grin.

"I've got a question. Are you up for it?" he teased. Anne's eyebrows rose at the challenge, and she turned to him. "Why- why do you hate your- your hair?" he said, faltering at the last. Mentioning it had been a mistake five years ago- and he hoped he wasn't doomed to repeat history.

She turned to him incredulously, and he unconsciously flinched.

"Because it's _red_." she said, mystified.

"So?"

Anne rolled her eyes. "Because it isn't blonde, or brown or black, or any pretty colour; it's a bright red that singles me out. I don't like that."

Gilbert let out a deep breath. "So what if other people like it?"

Anne gave him a pitying look. "But they _don't_."

He looked at her sceptically. "You can't possibly be claiming to know what everyone thinks, are you?" When she only looked at him, he sighed. "Look, _I_ liked it. That's why I teased you."

Anne was silent for a moment, and finally shook her head with an amused smile. "You know, that is the most twisted piece of logic I have ever heard."

Gilbert snorted. "It came from a thirteen-year-old boy. What did you expect? Plato?"

Anne laughed and stood up, wiping her hands on her dress. "Alright. We'll let bygones be bygones. We're much older, and wiser now."

Gilbert stood up as well and walked down to the water's edge. When Anne came to stand beside him, he gave her a quick look. No harm done, as far as he could tell.

"So what else?"

Anne looked up at him, a wicked smile on her face. "Ruby once said that you proposed to Josie. True or false?"

Gilbert put his hands on his hips. " _That's_ what you girls used to discuss?" he said evenly. " _Really_?

Anne shrugged, looking innocent. "I thought it might explain her fascination with you if you did."

He gave her a scowl and spoke flatly. "Alright, I did. I was six, she was four. Fred told me that I'd be an old maid if I didn't ask someone in our first year of school."

Anne began to laugh, a sweet, bubbling one that made him smile. "Oh, Gilbert. An old _maid_?"

He sighed. "His brothers might have been responsible for that misunderstanding. He asked Jane. As far as I remember, she said yes. They're probably still technically engaged."

"As were you and Josie?" Anne asked, wiping tears of laughter from her face.

"No, she refused me." he said philosophically. "Said she was too young. She said she'd let me know when she was old enough."

"Oh, Gilbert," Anne said with a grin. "I think she's been trying to tell you that for a while now." Gilbert's lips thinned, and she stopped her teasing abruptly. "Oh. I'm sorry, I can see that it isn't a joke for you."

He gave her a candid look. "It isn't, because she's keen on making trouble. I'm not getting backed into any corner, or trapped into anything foolish by her."

"But- but surely she wouldn't-" Anne faltered.

"Her sister did." Gilbert looked into her stunned face and shrugged. "Small communities talk a lot, you know that. It happens a lot. And it's not going to happen to me." he said frankly.

Anne shook her head in surprise. "I'm- I'm just surprised."

"So if it ever looks like I'm trying to escape her; I am." he said with a grimace. "I want more for my future than that."

"I never thought what it would be like for you to be the recipient of unwelcome attention." she said thoughtfully. "I'm sorry for speaking so lightly of it."

Gilbert shook his head. "It's not really worth talking about. She'll get the picture soon enough."

Anne took the lead now, wandering back in the direction that they came. "It's your turn, Gil."

Before he had a chance to proudly grin at the shortening of his name, they looked to the sky at the drops that fell on them, quickly realising that there was no point trying to flee the heavy shower that had already arrived. The drops that followed were big, and with a shout Gilbert grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the base of the rocks, where there was a small hollow to shelter in.

Once inside, Anne looked out in dismay at the shoreline, now invisible in the driving rain. She looked at Gilbert, sitting next to her, and equally as sodden. He gave her a sheepish grin.

"I didn't keep my eye on the clouds. Sorry, Anne." he said sheepishly, over the rain. He waited for the moaning that he had observed in so many of the girls whenever the elements intruded, wondering if she would do the same.

Her hair hung limply over one shoulder and her soaking skirts dripped on the sand, and yet her rain-washed face smiled.

"Oh, I get caught like this at least once a month." she said with a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Marilla won't even blink at it; I can assure you."

Gilbert watched her with a grin. "I thought you'd be upset at getting wet."

Anne shrugged. "I'm not. And it's your turn to ask me something."

The two of them talked in this fashion for well over an hour. Finding similarities, differences that caused them to argue hotly. As they talked, Gilbert looked across at her with a slightly dazed grin. He'd never known a girl to be such a good sport about everything- she was leagues ahead of Jane and Ruby and the others in understanding, in personality. He'd been taught to treat them with deference since he was small, but he'd never felt like they could understand him. Now he found himself wondering if he'd be able to keep up with _her_.

"I know it's your turn to ask me something," he said, at last, concentrating on rolling up his damp sleeves, "But I just wondered- if I could ask you one more thing."

Anne looked across at him, tucking her hair behind her ear, her expression open.

Gilbert took a deep breath. "If I hadn't upset you on the first day we met, do you think we could have been good friends all this time?"

Anne gave him a careful glance. When she saw the serious look on his face, she bit back the teasing rejoinder that first popped into her mind to answer him honestly. "I really don't think we could have helped ourselves." She drew in the wet sand surrounding them, her eyes studiously avoiding his intense hazel ones. _Beautifully_ hazel, she thought idly. "I know it sounds foolish since you are nothing like me- but in some ways you _are_." she said awkwardly. "I don't even know how that can happen- but you're more like me than I would have ever have thought possible."

Gilbert's breath was taken away at this admission. And it was _true_ \- he just never thought she would see it. The rain had all but stopped outside, and he turned to her with an intrigued look.

"So then maybe you don't care about being caught in the rain?" he asked daringly.

She gave him a clear, happy glance, utterly free from the coquettishness and decorum of the others, and pushed out of the little cave. He followed her wonderingly. She stood in what was now a sun-shower, the little droplets of rain falling on her face, her red hair wet, and little curls standing out around her face. Her dark dress hung limply around her damp form, and he distractedly blushed and tried to look away from the small curves on her chest that showed clearly through the heavy fabric.

He thought she was breathtaking.

Anne smiled up at him, utterly unselfconscious. "It honestly doesn't worry me. And I think there are still some corners out here that are yet to be explored."

Gilbert took her hand then with a grin.

"Well, come on then. Last one to the water is a rotten egg."


	16. Chapter 16,Through Rose Coloured Glasses

**Surprise! Here's a little something I've been mulling over lately, and you should hopefully see some more of these Anne of Avonlea episodes soon too. They're so much fun to write, just little moments really, and a welcome break from bigger story arcs that make my head hurt just a little bit. I love that people have enjoyed these, I hope this little one is something sweet too.**

 **Cate.**

* * *

 _Through Rose Coloured Glasses_

The early fall sunshine shone down on the banks of Barry's Pond, the sound of happy laughter echoing from the trees and fields surrounding it. Marquees had been strung up under the shade, with clusters of people in bright dresses and suits mingling around tables loaded with cakes and pies. Children ran through the place with shouts of glee at the warmth of the day, while busy mothers tried to keep the younger ones out of mischief.

Gilbert Blythe stood to one side with the older boys, who had stationed themselves by the pond at Mr Allen's request. The young boys had longing eyes set on the boats that Mr Barry had supplied for the races, and Mr Allen had no intention of allowing any of his flock to come to harm at the Sunday School Picnic. Fred would be taking the young ones out later in the day, and it was the boy's responsibility to make sure that no one went into the water early.

Gilbert's attention was not held for long by Charlie's discourse on his work with his father, or on Angus Pye's snide comments about the lack of things to do in Avonlea. He was watching the road that came down the hill impatiently, wondering where on earth Anne was. None of the Green Gables folk had arrived yet, and he watched the road with keen eyes- because today was different. Today she'd said she would come to the picnic with _him_. He'd never asked her to anything before- he was worried that she'd not taken him seriously at first, so curiously had her big grey eyes studied him. To his utter shock, she'd agreed then, a slight smile on her face.

Over under the biggest of the tents, he could see the other girls gathering, helping their mothers when requested, but slowly separating themselves from the group of women and edging their way towards the young men who were watching them with eager eyes. Ruby was the first to break away, running lightly down the slope towards the gentlemen she had grown up with, her blue eyes on the dashing young man visiting from Carmody, her bright smile and blonde curls making the youth slightly tongue tied. Diana and Jane followed behind, and Gilbert smirked, seeing Fred straighten his tie, and a quick hand smoothing down the sandy hair on his head. He'd suspected for a time that Diana Barry had caught his eye, and if the way her dark eyelashes were fluttering at him was any indication, he might just be in with a chance.

Gilbert jumped, as Josie suddenly appeared before him.

"Gilbert, I thought you said you were coming with Anne?" she said sweetly. "Did you two have an argument or something?"

His cheeks flushed, and he disentangled his arm from hers, eyeing with distaste the feathered and frilled yellow hat that sat on her head. "Of course not-"

Josie laughed, her nose wrinkling. "Well, she does have quite the temper, Gilbert. We all know _that_. And the two of you don't always get along that well, do you? Although perhaps her new _maternal_ duties are keeping her away."

Gilbert gave her an incredulous look. "Miss Cuthbert adopted Davy and Dora, not Anne- and I think she's doing a fine job with them."

Josie scowled. "There's no need to get so _defensive_ , Gilbert. I'm sure Anne can help them a little, after all, she's as much an orphan as they are. Maybe she can teach them to tell stories and not keep a house well." She saw the look that crossed Gilbert's face and gave a smug smile. "Oh well, if she can't make it today, I'm sure there are _other_ young ladies who are allowed to act their age and have the time to spend with eligible young men."

Josie tossed her head as she turned to go, effectively poking Gilbert in the eye with the ostrich feather on her hat. With his eye blinking rapidly, and a cross look on his face, he gave a sudden start, finally seeing a girl in a grey dress coming over the crest of the hill. With a big grin on his face, he set off at a jog to meet her, ignoring the calls of the young men behind him.

To his delight, Anne smiled as soon as she saw him, and he took the heavy basket off her. He stopped with comical dismay, seeing that her other hand was occupied- twisted behind her was a small person, and Anne gave him an apologetic smile, as she tried to bring the young girl out from behind her.

"I'm sorry I'm late, we had some issues just before setting out," she said, her voice droll.

"Oh?"

Anne chuckled, bringing a smile to Gilbert's face. It was good to see her laugh again. Matthew's death four months earlier had dimmed much of the sparkle in her eyes, and he'd watched her, waiting for the grief to subside, to begin to see the girl he remembered.

"Davy ate an entire jar of marmalade this morning," she said conversationally. "And as you can imagine, it didn't sit so well on his stomach. Ten minutes before we were all due to leave, Davy commenced throwing up. He was still going when we left."

Gilbert couldn't help his grin. "That sounds no end of fun. I'm sorry it made you late, Anne, I could have come to get you both, you know that."

She shook her head, smiling. "It seemed silly when we both live so close to not meet here."

Gilbert watched her try to coax Dora out from her skirts, and he hunkered down on the grass to grin at the timid eyes that poked out from behind Anne.

"Dora, you know Mr Blythe-" a patient Anne said, and then chuckled as she felt Dora shake her head against her. "It's Gilbert, darling, he came to the house last Saturday. You remember Gilbert, don't you?"

Dora nodded at last, and he grinned at the one eye he could see.

"You got Davy's ball back," she whispered.

Gilbert nodded. "Dora, I heard Minnie May Barry say that she was waiting for you to get here," he said quietly, trying not to startle her.

Anne bent down with a big smile. "Well, that sounds lovely; why don't we go and find her now?"

At Dora's nod, the three of them walked down the hill towards the party together. Gilbert watched Anne as she walked beside him with a tender look. Josie wasn't the only one who had noticed the changes at Green Gables- but he felt that they were good ones. The sadness that had rested over the old house had begun to diminish with the whirlwind that was the arrival of Davy Keith and his sister just over a month ago. He'd noticed that Anne was a little less available now, but to see some lightness come back into her step again was worth it. Besides, Fred had offered some very helpful advice about getting to know _little_ sisters in order to impress the _older_ ones…

* * *

Diana was only too happy to see her friend and to find Minnie May, and Dora's hesitant little face broke into a smile when the eight-year-old girl asked her to come and get ice cream. Anne watched her go with a smile, remembering another little girl who was so excited to be at her first picnic. After taking satisfaction in the pretty pink gingham dress that she had insisted on Dora wearing, Anne turned back to her friend with a smile. She walked with Diana to the blankets that had been set out and sat down in a clear space with a sigh of relief. Diana watched her curiously.

"Anne, I thought you were coming with Gilbert today?"

Anne's face was surprised. "Well, I did- we just didn't come here together."

"Then how did you _come_ with him?"

Diana watched Anne spread out her skirts and gave a little sigh, unable to stop contrasting her friend's appearance with the brightly coloured gowns that surrounded them. She would never have believed how much she would miss seeing Anne in the purples and blues and greens that became her so well- and felt that her own bright blue gown was an affront to Anne's mourning. Still, Anne had only smiled at her and shaken her head- _soon_ , she'd said.

"Di, Gil lives ten minutes west of here- I live ten minutes _east_. We met in the middle."

Diana rolled her eyes. "That's not coming _with_ him-"

"Semantics, darling-"

"Anne, you know I don't speak Spanish-" Diana said crossly.

At this Anne's laughter bubbled up. "You're right. But I can assure you that Gilbert doesn't mind. He's just being kind, asking me."

Diana's mouth dropped open at Anne's careless shrug. "Anne, he's not being kind, he _likes_ you!"

At this her friend looked at her, her expression incredulous. "Well, of course, Di, we're friends!"

"It's a little more than that, I think. Up until four months ago, you _weren't_. Now he's everywhere that you are." Diana said drolly.

Anne shook her head, her mouth twisted into a little smile. "Miss Barry, you promised your mother you would stop reading those sorts of books-"

"Oh, don't act so innocent, you were the one who _loaned_ me those books," Diana said with a wicked grin. "I'm just saying that boys and girls aren't 'just friends' that often. Maybe he thinks of you in a- ah- _romantic_ way."

At this Anne let out a peal of laughter. "Di, you're crazy."

"Actually, I like to think I'm quite observant," Diana retorted and started to tick things off her fingers. "He's studying with you-"

"We are doing the same college course."

"The two of you are always rambling _somewhere_ together-"

"Diana, that hardly means anything-"

"And he's the first boy you _ever_ allowed to escort you anywhere," Diana said firmly.

Anne sighed. "Di, he's just Gil. He's a good friend- and if I hadn't been so stubborn a long time ago he would have been a great friend when we were in school together. You tried to tell me often enough that I should just forgive him."

Diana grinned. "Goodness, Anne; the two of you would have been unstoppable together- you came equal first on the entrance, you and he took out the top prizes at Queens- imagine what you could have done if you'd been friends before now!"

Anne shrugged again, her tone unusually practical- sounding like _Gilbert_ , Diana realised with a jolt. "We can't go back in time, Di darling. And I like to think that the results would have been the same in either case. He's a chum- and I'd like to believe I am that for him too. We just talk about school, about the AVIS, about college one day, and- he's just- _fun_."

Diana sat back, leaning against her palms on the turf. "He just seems to make you happy," she said slowly. "And it's been a little while since you were like that."

Anne looked across to where the boys were talking, and Gilbert waved from down near the boats at her, his handsome grin making her flush under Di's scrutiny. "There's a lot that makes me happy, Di. You, and Marilla and the twins, a job that I love- I'm at home after being away for a year-" she broke off, and Di continued, her voice firm.

"And _him_. You don't need to hide that from me."

Anne gave a rather shaky laugh. "You're seeing things through rose coloured glasses, Di. It's _friendship_. Gilbert's ambitions are bigger than Avonlea- he has no intention of stopping at being a country schoolteacher- or of merely ending up with the schoolteacher from next door. He talks to me like he would one of the boys."

"And you _like_ that?" a bewildered Diana asked.

Anne smiled. "You know, I kind of do. He's not making silly speeches, or flirting or showing off like the other boys do- he tells me what he's thinking, and argues with me if I don't agree- and he makes me laugh again," she added, her voice soft. "I'd almost forgotten how to do that."

Diana looked down to the pond, her heart breaking a little. For the ambitions Anne had let go of, for the way her friend was now tied to home in a way that even _she_ wasn't. For the grey colour of Anne's dress that hurt her even now- for the fact that her friend couldn't see what was written so plainly on Gilbert Blythe's face.

Still, she sighed, pulling a plate of little cakes towards then, giving Anne a twinkling smile. "Rose coloured glasses, you say."

Anne chuckled. "Yes. Making even the most innocent gesture appear romantic."

"So him walking you home from meetings-"

"We walk the same way, and he doesn't like to lose an argument, especially when we get to his house before mine," Anne said flatly.

"And when he takes you to see the treehouse he built deep in the Haunted Wood-"

"He was proving that you need a floor for it to be a treehouse, not like _our_ one on the floor of the forest itself."

"The way he is befriending Davy and Dora, and that sweet little moment when he talked to her earlier-"

"Oh, _Di_!" Anne said crossly. "Gil is a teacher- and a very good one too, apparently. He's wonderful with the children, according to Mr Allen."

"And that time he carried you all the way from the shore to the rocks where your shoes were-"

Anne huffed at that. "I can't _believe_ he mentioned that in front of you. I stepped on a shell and cut my foot. What was I supposed to do?"

Diana laughed at Anne's scowl. "You were supposed to be incredibly touched by his valiant behaviour, and swoon like any good girl should."

"-And if the _real_ Prince Charming ever does that for me, I promise I will swoon properly," Anne said patiently. "Gil wasn't trying to be even a little romantic, he spent the whole walk up the beach saying 'I told you so'."

"Why?"

"Because he _told_ me so, of course," Anne said, with a dry grin. "He said it was foolish to walk on the rocks without shoes on."

"Anne, darling, I will take your word for it right now. But I think _you_ need a pair of rose coloured glasses."

Diana shook her head, watching Fred and Gilbert walk towards them. Fred's face was red, and his eyes were looking anywhere but at her- and her own cheeks were soon a rosy pink as he came closer. _She_ knew what his looks meant. Gilbert's glance was carefree though, and his stride was even as he flopped down beside Anne, shaking the water on his wet hands over her red head, and laughing as she tried to cover her face.

"It's healthy pond water, imported from less than ten yards away. You should feel honoured to be drenched in it," he teased, making Diana shake her head at them in confusion.

As Fred sat down near her, Diana watched the way Anne gave Gilbert a shove, threatening to leave _him_ clinging to a bridge at some point in the future, and she sighed. Her mother had always told her that there were none so blind, as those that had no interest in _seeing_. She watched the easy manner in which the two of them interacted, and took some heart in how far they had come in just a few months. Maybe one day- when Anne's responsibilities were a little less, when the grief had begun to subside at Green Gables- maybe _then_ she would begin to see Gilbert more clearly.

* * *

When the sun was dropping lower in the sky, and Mr Allen had given his public thanks to the Barrys for hosting the congregation, the townsfolk began to pack away the baskets and tables, moving towards buggies and horses waiting patiently under the old trees. Anne and Gilbert walked over the hill and towards Green Gables, with a very tired Dora by Anne's side. She was thoughtful as they walked, Dora's hand in hers own. Gilbert held the basket she had carried; he had only rolled his eyes at her when she protested.

Anne watched him in the afternoon light. Despite Diana's words, she was sure she was right about him- sure that no wayward thoughts of romance were there. He wanted more than what home could offer- and with a little sigh, she looked towards the horizon. _She_ had wanted that once, too. It was then that she looked down at Dora's little face, pink-cheeked after the afternoon in the sun, and smiled. To see her contented little face and the enormous yawn she had just given was like balm to her own heart- it wasn't hard to make a child happy.

When they reached the gate of Green Gables, Dora ran inside with a stuttered goodbye to the big fellow whom Anne spoke to so easily _._ Oh, he was nice and everything, and Minnie May said the older girls called him _dreamy_ \- but she thought she would leave it up to everyone else to talk to him, for all that.

Anne and Gilbert followed her to the veranda, and Anne sat down with a sigh on the cane chair, smiling when Gilbert took the other one wordlessly. She watched him rest his head against the back of the chair, deep in thought.

"So what are your plans for tomorrow?" he asked her suddenly.

Anne came back to earth with a little sigh. "I suppose we need to finish those essays, at some point."

Gilbert nodded casually, watching a flock of birds rise up from the nearby trees. "Do you want to come to my house to finish them tomorrow after lunch?"

Anne's look was hesitant. "I don't know if Marilla will need me-"

She broke off, as the woman in question came out to the veranda, wiping her hands on her apron. "Anne, Gilbert," she said with an amused look. "Just what did you do to Dora today? I think I could almost put her to bed right now."

Anne smiled. "A long afternoon playing in the sun, I think. She and Minnie May had a wonderful time together. And how is Davy?"

Gilbert laughed at the wry look on Marilla's face. "He's fine now. He admits he shouldn't have done it- however he merely thinks that he should have eaten the blackberry jam instead. Thinks it may have sat better."

Anne chuckled. "So he isn't exactly repentant."

Marilla eyed Anne. "Hardly. Now, what weren't you sure of?"

She watched the girl look at her companion, her look regretful. "Gilbert and I have some work to do tomorrow, but I didn't want to leave you with all of the sewing, Marilla."

Marilla's sight was good enough to see the look of care that sat on her girl's brow. She looked at the young man thoughtfully. "So you could work on it tomorrow afternoon?"

"Only if you and Anne think it a good idea."

Marilla nodded. "Oh, I think so. Anne, I've decided to get Rachel's help for the twins' winter wardrobes this year- you have enough to do with your classes. You don't want to fall behind in your studies."

Anne sighed with relief. "Thank you, Marilla, I'm sure she will do a wonderful job. Are you sure you wouldn't mind me being gone for the whole afternoon?"

Marilla gave a little chuckle. "Oh, I think you've earned a little break."

Gilbert cleared his throat, his look sheepish. "And if we're working long enough, Mother suggested that you might like to- might stay for dinner- you know, to eat us- I mean, _with_ us-" he paused, his cheeks flushing at the jumble of words that he had just spilt out. To his relief, Anne looked pleased and looked to Marilla for her nod.

"That would be lovely, Gilbert."

At a long whine from the unfortunate Davy, Marilla gave a sigh, and went indoors, leaving the young pair to their own devices.

To Gilbert's surprise, Anne didn't move from her seat. They were quiet for a time, and after a few minutes of not speaking he decided that he should be going- she must be tired. When he stood, Anne walked with him down to the gate silently, and Gilbert stopped to study her.

"You're very quiet, today," he said softly. She turned her grey eyes to look at him, and his heart sank at the confusion in them. He watched her shake herself then, and she tried to smile.

"It was- just something Diana said this afternoon," Anne said, leaning her arms on the gate that now stood between them. "She said that I need to look at life with rose coloured glasses again."

Gilbert blinked. "Alright."

She ran her hand down the long red braid that fell over her shoulder and drew in a shaking breath. "I just wondered if- if I've become someone who can't see the possibilities in life anymore," she said, her smile faint. "I would have said that I was someone who never took my rose-coloured glasses _off_ \- that I could always see the romance and poetry in a tree, or hear stories in the wind- that I could find colours even on the darkest night." Her voice faltered then, and she drew in a deep breath. "There are times when I can see them again- and then days like this when the world just seems- grey."

Gilbert cleared his throat. She wasn't often this open with him- and there was a defeat in her eyes that he felt powerless to remove. Unthinkingly his hand reached out to touch the grey sleeve that covered her thin arm. He tried to speak, his eyes on the soft fabric.

"Anne, the grey is only for a season," he said, his voice low. "When you're ready, you'll take it off. The colours haven't gone anywhere, I promise. They're waiting for you to find them again."

He saw the tear that fell, and his fingers closed around her small wrist gently.

"What if I can't see them anymore?" Anne said, her voice little more than a whisper.

Gilbert looked at her, his jaw clenching. "Then we'll all help you to find them again." He bent down to the little rose bush that Matthew had planted, picking off a small shell-pink bloom. He placed the flower in the palm of her hand, looking at the way her wide eyes followed his. "You'll see. And Anne- Matthew would be so proud of you."

His hazel eyes held hers, and he reached up to brush away the tear that fell on her soft cheek. He stepped away from her with a long look, and turned to go. Anne drew in a long breath, her gaze following him as he walked away.

When he turned the corner, she looked down at the pink rose in her hand, and then turned her face towards the sunset, bright against the clouds. Colours of apricot, saffron and rose.


	17. Chapter 17, Pretty

**And here is another surprise! I do love doing these, and at times the angst of Shore of Dreams even gets to me! Hence this chapter. Now, I'll ask you to grant me some creative licence, since the quote I'm referencing for this chapter is, in fact, Charlie's- but most of us remember it coming from Gilbert in the TV series! I have a few little ideas to keep adding to these as time permits, so you may see them pop up when you least expect them. I like to think that's part of the charm of _Golden Days_. **

**Cate.**

* * *

 _ **Pretty**_

Gilbert Blythe sat on a log in the centre of the Haunted Wood, waiting. His arms were crossed tightly, his jaw set, and hazel eyes were crackling with fire. She'd be here in just a minute, he could almost predict it. The summer sky was a brilliant blue overhead and the wood was full of birdsong- and yet he was waiting for those angry stomps to come through the forest, the sound of her furiously pushing the branches aside that got in her way. Sure enough, they soon came.

A small part of him sighed to see her pale face as furious as it had been in their school days, but then he lifted his chin. He didn't have to simply placate her any more.

"You _twisted_ my words," he shot at her, before she could even register his unwelcome presence.

"You _insulted_ me!"

"I did _not_!" he yelled in frustration. "All I said was that you looked funny- something _you_ commented on yourself!"

Anne glared at him, her cheeks bright red. "A _gentleman_ would not have agreed."

"And would a _lady_ have thrown water at someone before running off?"

Anne's mouth swung open in indignation. "Well, if it was _me_ and it was _you_ , then the answer is yes to everything," she said hotly. "Why do you always have to come here when we're fighting?"

Gilbert's eyes closed, exasperated. "Because _you_ always come here when we're fighting. It's the only way we ever sort anything out."

Anne sat down on a nearby rock with a scowl. "Fine. Next time I'm staying in my room."

"Then next time I'm coming up the drainpipe."

Anne looked over to see his stern eyes holding hers, telling her that he meant it. She sat back, finally silenced.

"Look, I didn't mean to upset you. And you know I got just as muddy as you did."

Anne gave him a withering look. "You only got a little on your shoes and your- your-" she faltered suddenly, unwilling to admit that she had ever been _close_ to looking in the region of Gilbert Blythe's rear end.

"My _posterior_ ," he said calmly, his look amused. "And yet you'll notice that I didn't fly off into a rage at you for laughing at it."

Anne huffed at that. "You were laughing at _me_ , not the mud."

Gilbert sat down against a tree, fairly sure she wouldn't run off now. "You have no way of knowing that."

"You said that now you knew what I would look like if my skin was darker, or if I had brown hair."

Gilbert sighed. She had obviously washed up before she came, her hair was still damp and back to its normal red, and he flushed slightly, trying not to picture her in the bath. He shook himself. "You got covered in mud, Anne, you have to admit that it was a little bit funny."

With a shock, he watched her bound to her feet and saw the tears that had come to her eyes. She turned to walk away swiftly into the woods, and he silently cursed himself as he leapt up, knowing he'd underestimated her yet again.

He tore after her through the trees. "Anne, for Pete's sake, _wait_!"

It was only a minute until he caught her, nearing the dimpled pool that Priscilla Grant had wanted to call _Glimmer Glass_. He watched her sit amongst the ferns that bordered the water, resolutely not looking at him. When she wiped the tear from her eyes, he knew that this wasn't about their mishap any longer.

"What's really bothering you?"

Anne's chin rose. "Nothing."

"If it was nothing you wouldn't have stormed away from me twice now. I know you better than that."

Anne's arms were tightly folded across her chest now, and she scowled at him. "You said it wasn't 'pretty'."

Gilbert looked at her, bemused. "With mud on your face and mud and grass in your hair? It wasn't. You said it first, I only agreed with you."

He watched the tears pool in her eyes, and flinched, knowing he'd said the wrong thing.

She glared at him furiously. "I thought friends didn't worry about things like that. Or are you like all the others, who just want to spend time with the girls who are pretty?"

Gilbert came closer to her, his eyes troubled. "I don't know how you came to that conclusion, Anne," he said, mystified. "I love to spend time with you, you know that. Why wouldn't I?"

"Gilbert, do you know what it is like to be the plain one in every room?" Anne asked him, her voice tight. "For your friends to be beautiful, and the only thing that people can find to say about you is that you're _smart_."

Gilbert groaned. "Anne, you can't seriously believe that people think that way."

" _You_ think that," she said stiffly.

He gave a sigh of exasperation. "And I don't know where you get the idea that it's alright to decide what I think-"

Anne clenched her teeth at his denial. "Diana told me that you told Charlie Sloane that being smart was better than being pretty."

"It _is_!"

"It's _not_ better if being pretty is what you want!" she said furiously.

"That wasn't what I _meant_ -" Gilbert shut his eyes tightly and sighed. "Anne, you have a genius for taking what I say the wrong way. I meant that girls who focus on the outside and don't use their brains, that's not better. And if you had to pick one, pick being smart. But I wasn't saying that you weren't pretty." She shot him a scornful look, and his jaw tightened. "Fine. You want to know what I think? You're the prettiest girl I know."

Her reaction was only to laugh then, the disbelief etched firmly on her face, and this time it made him angry. "Anne, do you want to know what I first thought about you? That I'd never seen hair quite the colour of yours before. It was different to everyone else, and exciting, and I liked it. And you won't believe that, because you are so stubborn about it, but that's the truth."

"You _pulled_ it!"

"Yes! To make you look at me!" he shot back.

Anne gave him an incredulous look. "To get someone's attention? Who would do that?"

At this he began to laugh, his eyes showing his incredulity. "Thirteen-year-old boys do that, Anne! You should know, you _teach_ them now! Sometimes boys do idiotic things to get attention!"

"Well, I know _that_ -"

Gilbert faced her front on, his glance unflinching. "Good. Then we finally might get somewhere with this. Yes. Boys do that. And surprise, surprise, boys don't always know that girls don't want to be teased about these things," he said sarcastically.

Anne frowned, trying to cover the slight smile at his admission.

"And I didn't know it was such a sore point for you. I thought it was pretty. It curled at the ends of your braid, and there were little curls that sat on your neck and your forehead, and I wanted to know what it looked like when it wasn't all tied up," he said, crossly.

Later in bed that night he would remember his words at that moment, and break out in a cold sweat at his unintentional candour. Good grief, the things that girl did to him-

"And you know, that day, I thought you'd frown a little and that you'd like being teased like the others- and clearly that didn't happen."

Anne looked at him, her eyes flinty. "Well, I'm not like the others."

"Which is why I always liked you," he said bluntly. "You know that. And you know what I noticed next? Your eyes."

Anne rolled the said items, and he shrugged. "Like it or not, it's true. They were so big and expressive. And there were times I couldn't tell if they were green or grey- and sometimes they're both. And you know what I thought? Beautiful."

Anne unfolded herself with a sigh. "I'm not asking to be flattered, Gilbert. I know very well who I am, and also who I am not. I know that I'm smart, and I'm thankful for that- when a girl has to make her own way in the world, that helps a lot. But for my own sake, just for my own, I just wish I were- pretty."

Gilbert sighed. "Anne, I think you have some fool idea that pretty only looks one way- and you're so convinced of that, that nothing anyone says can shift it."

"Pretty can look like many things-" she said defensively.

"Like red hair, pale skin, dappled freckles and grey eyes?" he asked openly.

She glowered at him then. "No."

"Then you are _prejudiced_. What if you had a daughter who looked just like that? Would you teach her to hate her own looks too?"

Anne gave a cry of anger. "No, I would _not_!"

"Then _why_ would you let yourself believe it of you? Your parents would have thought you the most beautiful thing that had ever been created! This is the problem I have with people fixating on looks," he said peevishly. "The other girls are so focused on what they wear that they don't even have any intelligent conversation to them- they talk about clothing and hairstyles, and who looked terrible in whatever puce-coloured dress they wore last week. That's not you."

Anne sighed, rubbing her forehead. "But it's not wrong to want to look nice, Gil."

"And who said that you _didn't_?"

The words in Anne's mind moved swiftly- every insult she had received, every time she had been talked about, every time she had seen her looks beside someone else, and felt the familiar wave of insecurity. She knew that he had a point, but to ignore a lifetime of other messages was no simple thing. She could see Gilbert was still a little angry and folded her arms.

"I do like my nose," she said, with the air of making a big concession. She was pleased to see the sternness leave his face, and the twisted smile she knew return.

"Was that so hard?"

"No, I always liked my nose."

He laughed then. "And it's a nice one. Anne, you catch people's eyes more than you realise. At the last Carmody dance, you had fellows lining up to dance with you- and some of the ones who are looking to dance with someone who just makes them look good. Now I know there's more to you than that, that's why I like you. That's the real definition of beauty, and _that's_ aesthetics for you. You even had old Charlie rhapsodising on what you look like in blue at the last AVIS meeting, and it made Josie furious. And the goggly-eyed-fellow was right- although personally I always thought that the colour green makes you look like a dryad."

Gilbert's look was honest as he turned to her. "I'll never focus solely on your looks, Anne- there's too much to you to do that. You're smart, you're pretty- you are brave and generous, and imaginative, and you see the world in a way that is entirely your own. Your whole personality is in your face- and it's a beautiful one."

Anne's cheeks were flushed, and she suddenly wished that she hadn't begun this. Would it really have been so hard for her to have laughed and moved on? She pulled her green skirts closer to herself, feeling somehow exposed.

Gilbert saw the movement, and flinched, knowing he'd been too forward- and then something inside him suddenly snapped. "Oh _no_ , I know what you're doing now-" he said flatly, bringing her head up with shock. "And you can just stop that."

Anne sat up, outraged. "What? I've _done_ nothing yet-"

"You have _so_ ," he said, aggravated. "Anne, you can't have it both ways. You can't get mad at me when you say I think that you're not pretty, and then get uncomfortable when I tell you that you're wrong. It's what you do to the other fellows when you think they're getting too close, and you can just stop that with me." Anne watched him in shock, and he shook his head at her stubbornly. "You're my friend, and I hate to see you thinking so poorly about yourself. I love the way you look, but I like who you are better than that. And you're just going to have to get used to me telling you that."

Anne's face was bright with colour, and for the first time she found herself unable to answer him. After a few minutes of silence, she suggested that they walk home. After an uncomfortable beginning, the two of them fell to talking about some AVIS plans, and the walk passed effortlessly. At the gate of Green Gables Anne turned to say goodbye. There was a curious smile on his face, one that made Anne look at him suspiciously.

"And just what are you smiling about?"

Gilbert grinned now. "I'm wondering what you'll throw at me if I do climb your drainpipe."

Anne's smile was sweet. "Whatever I have on hand."

He laughed then, and turned to go. "So am I still picking you up for the picnic tomorrow? You know everyone will be there early."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be ready early, then. You know I could just have come with Diana to save you doubling back for me."

"Nope, I want you to come with me this time." Gilbert then gave her a cheeky grin. "You'll make me look good."

Anne gave him a slap on the arm, her eyes nonetheless brimming with laughter. She couldn't help but admit that he did look gorgeous like this- his brown curls windswept, and that wide smile of his with perfect, white teeth.

She tossed her red head and gave him the arch look that made him want to crush her into his arms, the one that would always make him fall like a fool at her feet. "And have you given any thought as to how you'll make _me_ look?"

Gilbert grinned and winked at her. "Good, I'd say. After all, I'm pretty too."


	18. Chapter 18, I Told You So

**Hey everyone! This was an idea that surfaced when I was at work the other day- a Golden Days idea that made me laugh. Now, you remember the deal here, these are little one-shots that occur within canon in Anne of Avonlea. (Yes, I can stick within canon. Amazing, I know.) I broke with tradition this time, we have two little flash forwards for this pair after AotI, I hope you enjoy them.**

 **Cate.**

* * *

 ** _I Told You So_**

 ** _February 1883_**

Gilbert Blythe was the last to arrive at the AVIS supper hosted by the household of Sloane, and took off his coat in the entryway with an eager look. The trip home from White Sands had been an easy one this time, and he was looking forward to a night of fun with the youth of their town, all arrayed in their best, and all raring for a good time.

The winter had been a relatively mild one, and as he searched the room for a certain redhead, he reflected that it was a good thing. He'd only been stuck in White Sands by the snow once that winter, causing even his mother to grudgingly admit that White Sands was not so very far away. He knew she would have preferred him to keep the home school- but even she could not deny that Anne needed to be with Marilla more.

His hazel eyes brightened as he saw her in a small group talking. Her cheeks were flushed, and the grey eyes were holding hints of green, and he looked around for the person who had unwittingly sparked off her ire. Gilbert's eyes found Charlie, and he grinned wickedly.

 _Aha_.

Charlie was standing with his back to him, a drink held loftily in one hand, and the other hand in his brown pockets, and his voice cutting through Anne's impassioned speech.

"Well, naturally you wouldn't _want_ to cause the infants harm, Anne; but the fact is that sparing the rod will spoil the child. Every teacher needs to be willing to do their part. I believe that adequate parenting and competent scholarly instruction produces adults who will never need correction."

Gilbert stepped between Charlie and an Anne who looked ready to incinerate him, his smile easy. "And this from someone who is neither a teacher or a parent, Charles," he reminded his friend, giving Anne a wink. There was no answering smile in her eyes though, and he turned to view the group she was talking with.

Charlie snorted. "I may not be teaching Blythe, but I am every bit as qualified as you are."

"Well, I wouldn't say _that_ , old fellow," Gilbert said mildly.

"I simply have no need nor inclination to make a living _doing_ it. Well, look at Anne, here, all worked up because she had to whip some young scoundrel who probably deserved it, when she should have just done it on day _one_ -"

Anne's very hair seemed to crackle with fire, and Gilbert could see that she was struggling to rein in her temper. "Charlie, I _still_ think-"

A smug Jane interrupted. "We know what you _think_ , Anne, but at the end of the day you lost your temper, and found that we were right! Gilbert and I tried to tell you months ago, but you _had_ to keep on with your precious theories." She seemed to feel some guilt at the look of hurt in her friend's eyes, and she sighed. "Look, I've done it heaps of times now myself, it's no great tragedy. And you needn't worry, either- if you ask me, Anthony Pye deserved what he got."

Gilbert watched Anne's chin rise, and she turned from the group to sit down beside Diana and Fred. He excused himself from Charlie and Jane only to be caught by Josie and a huge-eyed Carrie Sloane, who both insisted on welcoming him at the top of their lungs- saying that he must be _freezing_ , and plying him with quite unnecessary food and drink. By the time he had escaped their clutches, Anne was no longer there- and Diana and Fred's heads were close together, both of their faces undeniably pink. He nodded at the pair of them and tried to blend into the crowd as he moved toward the front door.

The evening was reasonably mild for February, but even still it was chilly- when Gilbert found her he shook his head, seeing that she had remembered to take her coat with her this time. She was sitting on a wooden bench that the Sloanes had placed on the back veranda; no cosy wicker chairs for the practical Sloanes. Gilbert sat down beside her, and for a time there was silence.

"You're back," Anne commented, her voice admirably even for someone who had been crying only a minute ago. "How was your week?"

Gilbert exhaled. "Not as eventful as your week, perhaps." He was silent for a time, and chanced a look at her, a small smile on his face. "Want to tell me what happened?"

Her jaw was clenched so tight that he feared she would not respond, however after what appeared to be a titanic struggle, Anne held her red head high and chronicled the events of her most _supremely_ awful day.

Gilbert heroically held in his laughter in, although the shaking hand that rubbed underneath his nose hid a mouth that couldn't help smiling. The scope of the disaster was exactly what he could have expected- it was so wonderfully _Anne_. How she hated to be ridiculous; and she hated, even more, when her ideals betrayed her. Her green eyes were snapping at him, daring him to comment.

"Alright, that was a bad day," he admitted. "But I've lost my cool at times- we all have."

Anne got up from the seat with a cry of frustration. "We are _teachers_ , Gil- held to a higher standard, and expected to train the next generation of young minds. We have a responsibility to show decorum and dignity at all times."

"And yet we're still _human_. Professor Woodman used to say that some days will just be hard. And one bad day isn't going to ruin the children."

Tears gathered in her eyes, and she turned on him with such hurt in her eyes that he flinched. "I betrayed everything that I believe in because that boy _angered_ me. You don't think that's worth any regret?"

"No, I don't," Gilbert said bluntly. "Anne, he's been causing you no end of trouble since the start- and you've just put up with it to try and win him. And you _said_ that his behaviour was a lot better afterwards."

She sighed. "Yes. But if it had only been done through kindness- "

"Kindness won't win everyone."

Anne's eyes snapped furiously, and he saw her pull up her sleeve, showing him something on her wrist. " _That_ is what happens when kindness is ignored, Gilbert. It's anger that leaves scars."

She made to storm off, however, he caught her hand, his touch gentle. He swallowed, not quite knowing what to say. "Anne, it's not the same. You can't compare yourself to- to _that_. You've been kind, and even loving to the little monster. Him not responding isn't your fault. Your theories work overall, right?"

"Clearly _not_ \- "

" _Aside_ from him."

She fell onto the seat next to him again, disgruntled. "I don't know anymore."

Gilbert gave her a considering look and sighed. "Look, we all started out with theories. Some of them were right, some were wrong. I've tried things and had parents insist I go back to the way things were. I've pushed students who could be better but _won't_ \- and gotten into trouble for that- and I lost my temper and used a switch on a boy a month ago." He gave a wry smile at her look of indignation. "I thought you'd go off at me about it, so I never told you."

Anne gritted her teeth, knowing that he was right. She drew in a deep breath. "Well, what did he do then?"

Gilbert scowled. "He pounded on his little brother in the alley before school."

Anne's jaw dropped, and she looked out on the snow-covered yard in shock. Her words were soft, as if speaking to herself. "How can children be so cruel?"

"You know the answer to that. They learn it." He turned to her then, his face set. "Look, you can't change what you did. And maybe you found out something too- remember what I said before we started? To you and to Jane?"

Anne folded her arms in defiance, ignoring the raised brown eyebrows beside her. When he only stayed silent, she rolled her eyes. "Corporal punishment as a last resort," she muttered.

Gilbert folded his arms too. "Anne, you proved us _both_ right. You don't use it, and you get pretty good results. But there was _one_ child in twenty-five who wouldn't be influenced by any other way, and when he pushed you too far he met the consequences." Anne's shoulders dropped in defeat, and Gilbert spoke carefully. "Anne, I don't know what happened to you- and if you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen, but you're not like the person who gave you that scar- and you haven't let your convictions down. You haven't scarred Anthony. He might even thank you for it, one day."

She let out an explosive sigh then, her eyes stormy. "Well, go on then, Gilbert. You may as well say it now."

"Say what?"

" _I told you so."_

Gilbert grinned. "It can wait. Come on, don't let their opinions bother you, let's go back inside. You and I worked hard this week- we've earned a bit of fun."

Anne sighed, her eyes distant. "I might stay out here a bit longer, I think."

A step sounded on the veranda, and Diana and Fred pulled up in surprise, their faces red. Fred cleared his throat uneasily. "Oh! We wondered where you got to- I thought you might have taken Anne home, Gil."

Gilbert held in some frustration at the way Anne pulled away from his side primly, and raised his eyebrows at his friend. "Just going over some school stuff. And what are _you_ running away from?"

Diana blushed. "Oh- err, they're getting the games out now. We just wanted some- fresh air, before they started."

"Right," Gilbert said dryly, his eyes flickering to the girl beside him. She was calm, for now, that would do.

The four of them turned to go inside, and Fred threw an easy comment over his shoulder at Anne. "Oh- and Jane said you finally thrashed that Pye boy, Anne- good for you."

An alarmed Gilbert grabbed Anne's arm before she could explode in fury at his friend, and he waved placidly at the young couple. "We'll be in in just a moment, alright? I think Anne wants another turn around the yard."

* * *

 _ **July 1884**_

"Hey, _ouch_!" Gilbert Blythe said crossly, looking at the girl kneeling beside him, her brow lowered, and gentle fingers probing his knee.

Anne Shirley rolled her eyes, searching through her sewing basket for something. "Well, of _course_ it's painful, you idiot. You fell onto brambles. And all because you _wouldn't_ listen to me."

Gilbert brushed her hand away, studying the long gash running over his knee. "I know, I know," he groaned. "Look, I'd better just go home, Ma will know what to do."

Anne folded her arms, scowling. "Gilbert, you get rid of the thorns and then you bandage it. That's all. No doubt your mother can do a better job, but she is at least a three-mile walk away- and I am not carrying you home dripping with blood."

"Hardly _dripping_ ," he muttered, sneaking a quick look at Anne, a slight smile on his face. She was so in earnest about everything- even this.

Anne found her tweezers at last and continued to scold him. "You are lucky that I had to repair Davy's pants this afternoon- I can assure you that my book bag would have done little to help you."

Gilbert looked up at the broken treehouse above the dry creek bed with a frown. "It looked sturdy enough."

Anne sighed, exasperated, her hand just above his knee, trying to see what she was doing in the dappled light. "I told you, Di and I used to come here all the time, until her father forbade us from climbing it- after _I_ fell through it, and Di had to get her father to extract me from the floorboards."

Gilbert watched her bend over his leg to carefully pull a thorn out, biting his tongue to keep from uttering words that his mother believed he did not know. "Anne, are you _trying_ to make it hurt worse?"

Anne sat up and held out the tweezers, one auburn eyebrow quirked coolly. "Do you want to do this yourself?"

"I'd love to, but I can't _see_ to do it," he shot back.

"Then I suggest that you hang onto something and let me get the big one out."

He flinched, and of its own accord, one brown hand seized the folds of her blue skirts. Anne gave him a small smile, her look indulgent. "I didn't mean _me_ , but if it keeps you still, then fine."

The other thorn was drawn out slowly, and Gilbert was sweating when Anne held out the inch-long piece of bramble that grew thickly under the treehouse. Gilbert whistled softly and bent down to examine the cut, frowning at the dirt that had gotten into it as well.

"There's nothing to wash it with, Gil, that will need to wait until you get home. For now, all we can do is bind it." She pulled a piece of calico from her basket, efficiently ripping it into long strips.

Gilbert watched her curiously. "So is this all of those years spent raising children? Or just looking after Davy?"

Anne smiled, beginning to wind the bandage around the injury. "Davy keeps me busy, of course. But way back then, someone was always getting hurt- sometimes it was me."

He couldn't meet her eyes, then. He would bet some of the injuries to the children and to her were deliberate. But she wouldn't want to talk about it, he knew that by now. Instead, he sat quietly while she wrapped his knee, studying the intent look on her face, the sharp grey eyes checking that the job was done properly. Finally, she sat back with a sigh.

"Now, Gil, isn't there something you need to say to me?"

"Er- thank you?"

Anne smiled wickedly. "Not that. You need to say, Anne, you were _right_. You are _always_ right. In fact, when you think of what _rightness_ looks like in your later life, you will think of me."

A slow smile blossomed over his face, and he looked up at the broken ladder above them, and then to the girl whose red hair was coming out of its pins, little curls clinging to her neck on the warm summer afternoon. " _Fine_ , Anne Shirley. You were right. You were always right. And I hope to always have you nearby so I can check myself for rightness in later life."

Anne didn't seem to hear the double meaning in what he had just said, concentrating on helping him to his feet, grimacing at the sheer weight of his body against her own. How had his shoulders gotten even broader over the summer?

Gilbert bent over then, his hazel eyes twinkling as he pushed his trouser leg back down over his knee. "Come on, you may as well say it. I know you're thinking it."

Anne looked up at him, a satisfied smile on her face. " _I told you so."_

* * *

 ** _December 1889_**

There was a smirk on Gilbert Blythe's face as he stalked through the trees, his laughing fiancée backing away, pleading with him.

"That isn't what I said back there, Gil, and you know it."

"I know nothing of the sort, Miss Shirley. You only said that you didn't _have_ to marry me."

Anne's feet stumbled on the light snow slightly, and she held out her hand, giggling. "Gil, I had Mrs Harmon telling me that I really _had_ to accept you, saying that I was too old to not accept the next fellow to propose- do you _want_ her thinking that of us?"

Gilbert opened the buttons of his overcoat as he walked to her, his brown eyebrows raised as Anne's hands tried to hold him at bay.

"What I _want_ is for you to admit that you and I are made and meant for each other, Anne, and that means you _do_ have to marry me in nine months' time."

Her look was cheeky as she ducked behind a slender beech tree. "Oh, I think Mrs Harmon may be right, now that I think about it all, it does seem somewhat practical to go through with the wedding."

Her skin prickled at the low growl he gave, and she found herself absently loosening her woollen scarf. For one painful moment, Anne wondered bleakly how she could survive parting with him again, and then shook herself as she met his hazel eyes. "We've been engaged for two years and three months, Anne-girl."

"And they have been wonderful, dearest," she said placatingly, her grey eyes sparkling, loving that she alone could trigger this possessiveness in him.

Gilbert advanced on her, his voice low. "You are wearing _my_ ring, Miss Shirley, and we have a binding verbal agreement that says that you belong to _me_ , and no one else."

Anne stepped backwards, squeaking in surprise as she was backed into the trunk of a large tree, Gilbert's firm body then pressing against hers in a most distracting way. She smiled dreamily, her gloved hands coming up to caress his face, shivering at the delight of being pinned to the tree by her lover. She raised her lips to kiss him, only to have him move his face, his mouth twisted into a teasing smile.

"No, I don't think so. I need you to admit it first. Admit that you need me- _only_ me."

Anne sighed as his hands slipped down her back, pulling her waist tightly against him. "I admit that it _is_ rather nice to see you, after seven months apart- and that I don't object, _per se_ , to the idea of becoming your wife in nine months' time," she began innocently.

Without warning, he lifted her in his arms against the tree, his hands slipping far lower than the waist he had been caressing, lips moving against the smooth, white throat above her demure collar. She sank against him then, pulling his head up to kiss him hungrily. When he drew back to allow her breath, she sighed, running her hands through his windblown curls. "I admit that I can't live without you, Gil," she said huskily, her eyes closing as he leant into her body harder. "I- admit that if anyone else looks at you that I want to scratch their eyes out," she said wryly, smiling at the chuckle he gave against her skin. "And I will admit that I have to marry you in nine months time, and that I would marry you _now_ if it were possible. I don't know how I am going to let you go for another six months," she whispered.

He smiled, his voice low, and his warm mouth close to her ear.

" _I told you so_."

* * *

Now, naturally enough, over the years, there were many _I told you so's_ between Anne and Gilbert. Two fiercely intelligent and competitive individuals, both with a love of being right guaranteed that those words would be said from time to time. The _biggest_ 'I told you so', however, was reserved for Gilbert many years later.

* * *

 ** _July 1896_**

Anne lay back against her pillows, panting, and sweat covering her brow as her bewildered grey eyes looked at the tiny, crying bundle that was in Gilbert's hands. He stood in a trance, finally looking up at his exhausted wife, an enraptured smile on his face.

"Sweetheart, you did it," he said breathlessly, taking a soft, damp cloth to wipe the baby's head, before he stepped in close to let Anne see the baby, as the nurse began to clean up around them.

"Twice," Anne said faintly, struggling to sit upright, her shaking arms reaching for the baby, as Gilbert's mother suppressed a joyous sob in the corner of the room, holding yet another precious bundle in her arms. " _Twins_? How- I don't- how can- "

Gilbert chuckled, carefully sitting down on the bed beside her, passing the youngest baby into her waiting arms, the nurse quietly arranging fresh linens on the bed. Anne looked at the baby, her huge eyes swimming. "Girls? We have two little girls?"

Gilbert's own eyes were moist, and he looked at his wife in wonder. "Two perfect little girls. Sweetheart, she has your red hair."

Anne giggled, her head falling back against the head of the bed. "And won't you love _that_ , Gil. Oh, my goodness," she said, her sigh emphatic. "That was utterly _exhausting_." Mrs Blythe waited for Gilbert to help Anne shift the baby, and she bent over to lay the other infant in her mother's arms, next to her sister.

Anne looked between the two babies in wonder. She smiled at the golden-brown fuzz on the other baby's head. "I barely had a chance to meet you, little love. Oh, Gil, aren't they _sweet_?"

Gilbert's mother let out a long breath, wiping her eyes. "They are perfect miracles, Anne. There have never been twins in our family before this. Did you suspect anything, Gilbert?"

Gilbert grinned. "As a matter of fact, mother- "

Anne interrupted him hastily. "We needn't worry about that now. Oh dear- names!" she said comically. "We only had _one_ name picked out for a girl."

Mrs Blythe straightened her skirts and announced briskly that she would run down to tell Jem and Walter of their new sisters, both of whom who were in Susan's capable care.

As the door closed behind her Gilbert could see that Anne was flagging, and he lifted the closest baby to his chest, his big hands stroking the downy red curls on his daughter's head. "And I still like Diana for one of them. And I believe we should give her sister _your_ name, love," he said smugly. "Another Anne and Diana growing up together."

Anne chuckled, resting her head against his shoulder. "I do love that. But which is which?" she asked softly.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Gilbert said practically. "We can't have two red-headed Anne's- that will get wildly confusing later on." He held up the baby with a proud smile. "That means _this_ will be our Diana." He stretched out his hand to stroke the soft cheek of the other twin then, looking into the eyes that he suspected would be hazel like his own. "And you, little lady, will be _Anne_."

Anne nodded, and in her smile, there was something wistful as she looked at the two precious faces. "Neither of them look like Joy, Gil."

He sighed, wrapping his arm around Anne and two babies. "No, they don't. She was her own, beautiful self. I think she would have been fair- tall and fair just like you. Five beautiful babies, every last one of them." He bent down to press a soft kiss to his wife's upturned face, and then looked back at the pair on their laps. His tone changed then, and his look became mischievous. "And now, we have a little business to settle, Mrs Blythe."

"I'm so tired, Gil, I'm sure the nurse thinks I should be sleeping."

"But the doctor says that it's time to face the music." He made a show of laying baby Diana beside her sister on the bed and gave the two girls an exaggerated frown. "Now it seems to me that you and I have just had _twins_ , beloved wife of mine."

"I don't remember _you_ going through labour, Gilbert," Anne grumbled, a smile nevertheless on her face.

"Semantics," he said calmly. "I approached you _four months ago_ about this possibility, sweetheart. _Three_ months ago, I suggested that we get Doctor Parker to check you as well, and he agreed with me that there was a possibility, even if we only heard one heartbeat at the time. And when I suggested to you that we might want to think about another bassinet last month, you told me that I was insane."

"But it didn't _feel_ like twins," Anne protested half-heartedly. "And my size was not ridiculous, considering this was our fourth pregnancy. And you said yourself that you weren't sure."

"And yet I have another bassinet waiting in the attic."

Anne turned to him in shock, and he grinned at her. "I had Susan ready it a few weeks ago. If it was twins, I suspected that you might go early- and you did."

Anne's mouth swung open. "Gilbert John _Blythe_! I had no idea you could be so devious," she said crossly.

He rolled his eyes at her. "You did _so_ know that. And now what did you say you would do if I was _right_?"

Anne picked up Diana with a softening look, watching Gilbert take up baby Anne in his big hands. She smiled. She would be just like him, she thought, beautiful nut-brown curls and those hazel eyes she often lost herself in. She looked down at Diana, the damp little red locks clinging to her small head, and wondering what coloured eyes lay behind her fair eyelids. She looked up when Gilbert cupped her chin and kissed her firmly, and she smiled at him.

"I love you, Gil."

He grinned in triumph. "Oh, I know. Don't change the subject. _What_ did you say you would do?"

Anne huffed, before cradling the baby to her chest with the tender look that had only ever made him love her more. She stroked the cheek of the other little girl with a smile, seeing her open her tiny mouth hungrily. "I'm going to need to learn how to feed the two of you at once," she said with a little chuckle. She looked up from the two infants in their arms, and her cheeks flushed as she sighed in defeat. " _Fine_ , then. I will re-write your latest casebooks so that they are legible, dearest."

" _And_?"

"I will make you a cake with your name spelt out in little candies."

Gilbert slipped his arms around his girls with a huge grin. "I look forward to it. Come on, wasn't there something _else_ you said, sweetheart?"

Anne's cheeks were bright red with embarrassment as she cleared her throat, now hearing their small sons come thundering up the staircase in the distance. " _And_ when we go to Avonlea next I will go out on the pond with you, and I agreed that I would thank you _properly_ for rescuing me seventeen years ago," she muttered.

Gilbert's look was smug. "And I know just the corner of the pond where we are assured to have privacy for the said _thanking_. I can't wait."

Anne chuckled, her grey eyes twinkling. "We're an old married couple, now, dearest. _Surely_ we have moved beyond sneaking around the woods like we did when we were newlyweds?"

One brown eyebrow rose. "Remind me where this pair was conceived, again?"

Anne's cheeks flushed as she smiled down at the sleeping babies, marvelling that the size of their family had doubled, in one miraculous afternoon. "I honour my agreements, sir- but I must stipulate that the last will need to wait for the summertime."

"Duly noted." Gilbert kissed his wife swiftly, getting off the bed to open the door for the children, pausing to grin at her. "Oh, and sweetheart?"

"Yes, Gil?"

 _"I told you so._ "


End file.
